Monica studied the statue for a long time. Then she looked around the plaza. One of the first photographs Monica had ever seen of New York City had been taken there. It was that famous old black-and-white photograph of eleven construction workers sitting way above the city on a steal beam casually relaxing during their lunch break. They were building Rockefeller Center. And now here she was.
Relly said, “Come on, let’s set up over here.” He had found a spot near a group of happy tourists taking photographs.
It was late afternoon, and even though it was relatively warm out for November, the ice rink only lasted for the winter season and was packed with people. In April, the rink would be gone, magically transformed into a restaurant. Monica watched as skaters twirled and stumbled around on the ice. She smiled, thinking what it must feel like to glide on ice.
The kids were in their street clothes. Relly had set up a basic sound system.
April began in a booming voice: “Four Broadway kids hit Rockefeller Center! Hello, everyone! We’re the kid cast of Our Time. Less than two weeks away from opening night, and we wanted to give you a preview of our hot new show!”
Most people passed by with nothing more than a glance.
“Keep going,” Monica whispered. She knew it took time to gather a crowd.
“Cue the music,” April said.
Relly turned on the music, and a small group of teenagers stopped to watch. They took a few photos. The kids had only just begun their routine when they were interrupted by a woman in a nice-looking business suit.
“You kids are great! I’m a huge Broadway fan.” She handed the kids her business card. “Paula Williams, producer at Rise and Shine here at Thirty Rock. Mind if I get my camera crew out here for a song? I’d love to film a segment for tomorrow morning’s show.”
Within minutes, two cameramen arrived with a microphone on a boom and a couple of lights. Attracted by the cameras, a large crowd of people formed around them. The producer spoke to a reporter who would introduce them and then ask a few questions about the production.
“Ready and…” Relly clicked on the music for the second time that day, and the four fanned out. They went around the tight circle of people clapping their hands and encouraging others to clap along with them. Relly did a backflip, and people began to cheer.
The squad started to sing in perfect harmony, dance in perfect unison. They gave one another sideways glances of surprise, considering they hadn’t had a good rehearsal in a while!
Maria’s choreography for the number was a blend of hip-hop and ballet. They completed their partner cartwheels, something they’d been having trouble with, exactly right. Their confidence grew, as did their dance moves. Hudson spontaneously performed an incredible break-dancing windmill into a backspin. He whipped around in a circle, landing on his side, and gave a thumbs up to the audience. The crowd went wild.
“I’m not even sure what just happened!” April said afterward. They had been stars, individually and together.
The kids signed autographs and posed for photos.
“All of New York loves us!” Hudson proclaimed.
Monica still couldn’t believe what had just happened. Maybe things would actually be okay.
Eleven A FIELD TRIP
Eleven days until opening night
Their performance made it onto national television the next morning. Within hours, they had over a million views of their performance on social media. It took Artie, who wasn’t much for answering telephone calls, until the afternoon to figure out what was going on. In the meantime, back at the Ethel Merman, it was business as usual. No one seemed to be aware of the incredible feat they just accomplished. Not the stagehands, not Jimmy Onions, not Artie.
“Hello, hello, ladles and jelly spoons!” Amanda danced into the classroom carrying her usual half-eaten hot dog in one hand, an umbrella in the other. The kids stood where they were. They had a lot of questions. Like how exactly she was involved with the curse of the Ethel Merman.
“Fractions today,” she said with an expression of feigned delight.
“Is it raining outside?” April asked. “I had a sunny drive in from New Jersey.”
“Oh no,” she said, laughing, looking at her umbrella. “Just in case we get a little wet inside the Ethel Merman today.” She took a huge bite of her hot dog.
The kids looked at one another.
“We were wondering, Amanda,” said April. “What is our school policy on field trips?”
Amanda paused.
April continued, “Instead of fractions today, a lot of us are interested in learning about the history of Broadway. We were so inspired by your tour—dissection—of the Ethel Merman that first day that some of us would like to learn more.”
Amanda blushed. “Well, thank you.”
April continued, already knowing the answer to her question. “Is there a library in New York that has that information? You had mentioned something about a Performing Arts Library when you were giving us a tour of the theater.”
This was a trick. The kids needed an adult escort.
“Well, we really should stick with the schedule today. But in this case—oh, let’s throw caution to the wind!” Amanda took one last bite of her hot dog before almost skipping out of the theater.
New York’s Library for the Performing Arts was a bit of a hike from the Ethel Merman. But anything anyone ever wanted to know about Broadway was in that library.
“They have the largest dance archive in the world,” Amanda said, leading them down the street like a drum major as she wove past strollers and dawdling tourists. “And many other archives, on basically everything theater. Oh, we could take a guided tour! They have those. This library is truly truly contagious.”
When they got to the library, they were greeted by a display of Olivier Awards and Tony Awards. April put her hand on the glass. “You and me, Tony. So close.” They browsed the costume section, props, music. Amanda was doing her tour-guide thing again, chatting away about what the library was normally used for.
“You really know your way around,” Hudson said.
“Yes! I was here just the other day, in fact. Which reminds me, I need to check on a book I placed on hold.”
This was their chance.
“We don’t have much time,” Relly waved them in the direction they needed to go, pointing to an entire row of filing cabinets. “History of Broadway Theaters,” he said.
They all huddled around a narrow filing cabinet.
“Hurry up,” April said, leaning in as Hudson pulled the handle.
“I’m hurrying,” Hudson said, and pushed out his elbows. “Space.”
“Want me to do it?” April tried to push Hudson to the side.
“Guys! Please.” Monica elbowed her way in as well. “Just do it quickly, Hudson.”
The theaters were listed in alphabetical order.
“Booth, Cort, Eugene O’Neill, Gershwin…” Hudson was flipping fast.
“You passed it,” Relly said.
Hudson went back and looked. “Here it is. The Ethel Merman.”
He pulled out the thinnest file in the cabinet.
“This?” they all said together.
The file offered very little in the way of clues: all the productions, several actors’ biographies, a few notable moments. Tons of articles on its flops.
“Nothing about a curse.” Hudson slumped back onto his ankles.
“Strange, the file only goes back to the 1990s…,” Relly said.
“That’s when Jimmy said the curse started,” April noted.
“So someone stole the information leading up to the curse?” Monica said.
“Why would anybody do that?” April asked.
“So we couldn’t get our hands on it,” Hudson said.
“Maybe they’re protecting the curse,” Monica said.
“Maybe someone doesn’t want to stop the curse from ruining the theater!” Relly concluded, putting his finger to his chin.
&n
bsp; Relly took a few photos of information from the file. Then they heard Amanda coming and quickly replaced the file.
“What do we do now?” Hudson said.
No one knew. It was a dead end.
“Best get back to the theater!” Amanda poked her head around the corner, book in hand.
As they were leaving, Monica thought of something, and with a quick turn said to Amanda, “I almost forgot.” The other kids were way ahead of them. “I need to look up some information for my abuelita. She’s a huge Lin-Manuel Miranda fan.”
“I can wait,” Amanda said, pausing her step.
“No, I’ll just catch up with you in a bit. I know my way back to the theater,” Monica said, turning to head back inside before Amanda had time to challenge her.
“I really don’t mind waiting,” Amanda called to her.
“And cut into rehearsal time?” Monica said.
Amanda cocked her head. “Good point.”
“I won’t be long,” she said, and skipped off.
Monica was curious about something. Who was Ethel Merman? Funny, yes. Big voice. Her abuelita sang her songs at home. “It’s De-Lovely” was one of her favorites. Monica and Freddy knew the refrain:
The night is young, the skies are clear
And if you want to go walking, dear
It’s delightful, it’s delicious, it’s de-lovely.
She could hear her brother singing along with her abuelita, and it made her smile. Then she got serious again.
“How did Ethel Merman get a theater named after her?” Monica said to herself. Maybe she held some clues about the curse. Monica headed to the Actors’ Biographies section.
Ethel’s biography file was thick. Monica was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking through it, when a voice sounded above her. “Ethel Merman was considered the First Lady of Broadway, you know.”
Monica paused. She’d been caught. But then, wait. She recognized the voice. It was Amanda’s. She turned her head slowly.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Amanda said, with her usual soft face and bright smile. “But I figured you’d come back looking for clues.”
“I was just… um…” Monica twisted her hair, her other hand placed flat on the Ethel Merman file wide open on the floor. How did Amanda know?
“Do you want to know why Ethel Merman was one of the greats?” Amanda asked. Before Monica could answer, she continued. “She wasn’t the typical Broadway actress in her day. People said she was too loud. Too brash.”
Amanda reached down for the file. A photograph of Ethel slid out. Amanda picked it up and studied it.
“She was one of the hardest-working women on Broadway. And she had no fear.” Amanda looked at Monica. She repeated: “She had no fear.” Putting down the photo, she asked, “Is this why you came back?”
“Yes.” Monica wanted to say more, but shyness had taken over. “My abuelita really liked her, so…”
“I should confess, I really liked her too.” Amanda smiled.
The two looked down at the file.
“I have another confession.” Amanda got uncharacteristically serious. Monica steadied herself. “I’d actually been to the Ethel Merman many times before. When I was younger.”
Monica knew it!
“Although back then it was known as the Ogden, not the Ethel Merman.”
Monica’s eyes widened. The Ogden Theater? Amanda hadn’t mentioned this during her tour. Had she?
It clicked. The kids had been looking in the wrong file.
“See you back at the theater,” Amanda said with a wink.
With that, Amanda stood up straight, pulled down on her shirt to remove the wrinkles, and left.
Monica had just enough time to photocopy the Ogden Theater file and get back before anybody noticed she’d been gone too long. She couldn’t wait to tell April, Relly, and Hudson.
They were going to break the curse.
They were going to save the Ethel Merman.
They were going to save the show.
They were going to be stars on Broadway.
Freddy was going to get his surgery.
Monica raced to the theater. She rang for Jimmy at the stage door. Nothing.
“Jimmy! Jimmy!” She rang the bell again. Her heart was racing. She had butterflies.
After half a minute, which seemed like an eternity, Jimmy opened the door without a smile. When he saw her, he didn’t say hello, either—he immediately looked up, as if looking at the penny above the door, then down at his shoes. That was strange. But Monica couldn’t help but feel giddy, even if Jimmy was having an off day. And he still didn’t say a word even when she asked where the others were. What has the curse done now? she thought.
As she walked through the hall toward the stage, the entire theater was quiet. It felt more like church than Broadway. Even the sound guys didn’t wave to her. They just looked down. She saw April.
“April! Oh my gosh, I have to tell you something! Where is everybody else?” But April could barely look at her either. Relly came over and gave her a hug. Hudson said, “Sorry, Monica.”
What was going on?
She walked closer to the stage. Artie was there, and so was Maria, Amanda, Mr. Fernando, and Hugh’s understudy. And there was someone else. Someone new. Someone with long auburn hair.
“Who’s that?” Monica whispered.
No one answered her question at first. So she repeated herself: “Will someone please talk to me?”
“That’s Tabitha Fox,” Hudson said after some silence.
Tabitha turned around. She was tall. Confident. Strong. The kind of actress who could probably belt to the back of the theater and across the street.
Tabitha flashed a dazzling smile. Her eyes brightened. “Oh, is this who’s been taking my place while I was away?” Tabitha flashed another smile. “Thank you!” she said to Monica.
She returned to rehearsing.
What just happened? Monica thought. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She thought she was going to burst into tears right in front of everyone. She grabbed her hair and twisted and said to herself, Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“It turns out, all the publicity from the morning show stirred newfound interest in the production for Tabitha,” Artie said a little sheepishly. Truthfully, he couldn’t resist having his star lead back—even if she didn’t know any of the dance routines. “Opening night is sold out. So are several weeks after that.” He decided not to say anything more. There was an awkward silence.
Everyone wanted to see the show that was blessed with talent and cursed with risk. Tabitha knew all eyes would be on her. If she could pull off a top performance amid all the wreckage, the rest of her career would be golden. Plus, she brought much-needed star power to the production, which made Artie giddy.
“Monica,” Maria called out, breaking the silence and moving the rehearsal along. “You’ll be with the understudies today. Studio B.”
Monica looked at everyone onstage. They all looked down. Except for Amanda. Amanda looked straight at her with a kind of fire in her eyes. The silly, breezy woman was gone. Amanda studied Monica and gave her one firm nod.
Monica walked to her dressing room. Tabitha had already set Monica’s few things outside in the hall. The god’s eye still hung on the dressing-room mirror. Monica decided to leave it, for luck. Clearly luck was needed now, more than ever.
Interlude
“Above It All”
They say one is the loneliest number
But they never tell you ’bout three
You’re only asked to speak your mind
When the other two can’t agree
You learn to say, “It’s cool”
when they forget you’re there
But there’s something you just want to share
Someday it would be great to get the first call
And one day they’ll think I’m the best of them all
’Cause my jokes are better than anyone around
And when you tell me a secret, I won’t make a sound
I don’t want to be a second thought in anybody’s mind
I wanna matter to you
But most of all to me
And I’ll tell you the truth
When I see things you just can’t see
’Cause I’m the best friend that you never knew you needed.…
Twelve THE HEARTS OF TREES
That evening, Monica sat on the fire escape, breathing in the sensation of East Coast cold. November brought with it a kind of chill she had never felt in California. She decided a person needed to mentally prepare for this kind of weather. Monica pulled her sweater over her shoulders and listened for sounds from the street below. People were finishing their meals. Everything came to her tinny and hard. She wanted to be cold a very long time that night and remember it, then bring that feeling back to California with her. Who knew when she would be back in New York again. Maybe never.
Her abuelita had wanted to feel winter hit her bones too, and after an early dinner of ramen noodles, she had left for a walk while Monica was on the phone with her family. Freddy had won a baseball glove in the school raffle. Her mother had finally perfected lasagna, she hoped. Her father was concerned about the olive grove that had become infested with a disease.
“Xylella,” he explained. The way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so lovely, though it was a terrible bacteria spread by spittlebugs. “It attacks the hearts of the trees first,” he said. “Kills them slowly from the inside.”
If not caught early enough, it would spread to all the trees in the grove, and they would need to be dug up and destroyed. The olive trees were old and knotty and beautiful. Like a whole forest of frozen wizards and witches.
“But Kita, thank goodness we caught it quickly. There are already signs of life,” he assured her.
She did not bother telling them about Tabitha’s return. It was all too fresh anyway. And she forgot to tell them what winter felt like, and her desire to experience a snowstorm. What the growing intensity of cold might feel like if she had the chance to stay longer. She meant to tell them that Amanda had been an excellent tutor these past two weeks, but she forgot. That would have made her parents happy.
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