by Joan Holub
“Hey! Cute basket,” Red heard a boy call out teasingly to Wolfgang as he walked down the hall.
“Thanks!” Wolfgang replied in a cheery voice. He didn’t seem to feel the need to explain, and he didn’t sound embarrassed at the teasing, either. That’s what confidence does for you, thought Red.
As it turned out, Red didn’t need to call for her basket. It appeared before her suddenly and looped its handles around her arm just as she was about to push through the white door that led into the Pearl Tower dorm.
“Back already?” she asked the basket. After giving it a pat, she peeked inside it. Good. The cookies and crystal ball were gone, which meant Wolfgang had had time to remove them before the basket had whisked its way back to her.
“What are you doing here?” Snow exclaimed when Red entered the dorm. “I thought you were going to meet with Wolfgang.”
Before Red could reply, a magic feather duster flew by her nose, causing her to sneeze. Achoo!
Apparently, the other Grimm girls were busy at their tower tasks. In her role as Tidy-upper, Snow had just sent the feather duster flying around the room. As it began whisking along the fireplace mantel, Cinda, who was Hearthkeeper, turned from emptying ashes into a bucket to stare at Red in surprise as well.
Red glanced at the mantel clock. Whoa! It was only 8:07 P.M.!
“Library time,” she explained to her two friends as she approached them. “Wolfgang and I were there for at least an hour in normal time!” It was another peculiarity of the Grimmstone Library that when you were inside it time could either speed up or slow down. This time, time had obviously slowed down!
“So, spill,” said Rapunzel. “What did you find out?”
Now it was Red’s turn to look surprised. Because Rapunzel was sitting in an overstuffed blue satin chair with a scalloped back. She’d come all the way up here — again? She must not have been here long because she still appeared a little pale and shaky — the way she always looked after she climbed the stairs to the tower for a rare visit.
Red put her basket on the table and sat on a straight-backed chair beside her. Except for the four girls, no one else was in the common area. Still, Red lowered her voice since the entrances to the dorm rooms were curtains, not doors. “First off, I have bad news,” she told them all. “Jack and Jill’s pail is missing. Stolen probably.”
“What?” Cinda set down her hearth brush, then ducked as Snow’s feather duster flew past her ear. “How do you know?”
Quickly Red told them how, according to Gretel, Jill had returned the pail to the library that morning. “Wolfgang and I were in the P section, and when we passed by the shelf where the pail should have been, I noticed it wasn’t there.”
“Maybe someone else checked it out,” Snow suggested. She snagged the feather duster as it zoomed by. “That’s enough dusting for now,” she told it. Its feathers slumped, as if dejected — or maybe it was only pooped — as she hung it up on a hook near the fireplace.
“No,” Red said. “The sign-out tag was gone, too.”
“Which means the pail really must’ve been stolen,” said Rapunzel.
Abandoning the hearth, Cinda flopped into the red velvet chair on Rapunzel’s other side. “First Peter Peter’s pumpkin gets stolen and now Jack and Jill’s pail,” she mused. “This is not good.”
Snow sat down, too, perching on one of the floor cushions. “All I can say is that I hope Principal R puts his alchemy experiments on hold. Without Jack and Jill’s pail, fires at the Academy will be harder to put out and way more dangerous.”
“Maybe E.V.I.L. stole it for that very reason! Hoping to destroy the school,” suggested Rapunzel. She turned her head to look at Red. “So what else happened? With Wolfgang I mean.”
Responding to her prompt, Red described to her friends how tiny the library had been when she and Wolfgang first entered it.
“Hmm,” said Cinda. “Might have been an effort to prevent more artifact thefts. Less access to the collections.”
“Maybe,” said Red.
Snow drummed her fingers on the floor beside her and frowned. “It would be awful if we couldn’t use the library or check stuff out anymore.”
It was an innocent remark that any of the girls might have made. But after Wolfgang’s warning about Snow back in the library, Red found herself paying special attention to everything Snow said, alert for anything that might show she sympathized with E.V.I.L. She didn’t like thinking that way at all! But Wolfgang had planted the suspicion seed in her brain and she couldn’t help it.
As quickly as she could, she recounted some of her conversation with Wolfgang, revealing that she’d given him the crystal ball. Her BFFs were especially interested in what he’d said about potential E.V.I.L. Society members having to prove themselves before they could attend meetings.
“They have to steal an artifact to be a member of the Society? Hmm,” said Cinda. “I bet that’s what Odette and Malorette were doing when they stole Peter Peter Pumpkineater’s pumpkin from the library before I came to GA! Proving themselves.”
“Makes sense,” said Rapunzel.
Snow ran a hand through her short ebony hair. “So you’re saying Wolfgang isn’t a member of E.V.I.L.? But then how did he know its rules?”
“Well, you see he —” Red stopped short. She trusted Snow, really she did. But what if Snow accidentally revealed what was said here to her stepmom? Told Ms. Wicked that Wolfgang was trying to get into E.V.I.L. just so he could spy on the group? That could put him in danger!
“He didn’t say,” Red finished lamely. There was an awkward pause and she could feel everyone’s suspicions about him rise.
“He didn’t?” Snow asked.
“Well, it’s just … he did, but I can’t tell you yet. When it’s okay, I will. But I don’t want to betray his trust, you know?”
“So you do trust him?” Cinda asked.
“I do now,” Red said.
“Then that’s good enough for me,” Rapunzel said, much to Red’s relief. And Snow and Cinda nodded. Rapunzel kicked off her clunky black shoes and stretched her black-stockinged legs out in front of her.
To lighten things up a little Red went on to tell them about Wolfgang’s “accursed” tail that had a mind of its own. The girls all laughed about that.
“Actually,” said Rapunzel, holding up one of her braids, “I know how he feels. He may have an accursed tail, but I’ve got accursed hair. It grows so fast it makes my head spin! Probably the reason I get dizzy coming up here.” She gave a brittle little laugh.
The other three girls stared at her in shock. Although it was common knowledge that Rapunzel’s hair grew at an astonishing rate, she was usually so touchy about it that the girls had always avoided the topic.
“But never mind about that,” Rapunzel said, as if she already regretted having brought up the hairy topic. She yawned. “Time for bed.”
* * *
On Monday morning, Red was awakened by a School Board announcement. “Will whoever left their silver bells and cockle shells in the Bouquet Garden last night please come to the Lost and Found to claim them?” chorused the helmet-head voices being piped through the school.
As their words died away, Red remembered it was audition day!
She threw off her red-and-white-striped comforter and scrambled down the ladder from her bed. Gretel was already up and dressed. She was standing in front of her armoire mirror brushing her hair when Red grabbed her bathrobe from a hook inside her own armoire.
“Good morning!” Gretel turned toward Red and flashed a big smile.
“Same to you,” said Red. “You’re sure cheerful.”
“Because I slept like a rock-a-bye baby in a treetop last night,” Gretel said. “I haven’t had a single nightmare for two nights. I think facing Mistress Hagscorch in the Great Hall on Saturday cured me.”
“Or maybe it was eating healthy food and fewer cookies,” Red teased. She’d slept great, too, come to think of it. It was nice not to
be jolted awake by screams in the middle of the night!
Gretel laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah, that, too.”
After Red showered and dressed in the washroom a few alcoves down from hers, she brushed the snarls from her curly hair. Then she drew on a pair of red tights and threw her red cape over a yellow gown with a drawstring bodice, three-quarter-length sleeves, and a wide silk skirt. Finally, she pulled on her ankle boots and went downstairs to breakfast.
Red’s three BFFs were already having breakfast in the Great Hall. They waved when she came in and she waved back. Auditioning on an empty stomach hadn’t worked out so well last Friday, so as she picked up a tray and got in line, she promised herself she’d eat more than just a few bites of something this time.
Once she was through the line, she went to join her friends. Cinda scooted over to make space between her and Rapunzel.
“Thanks,” said Red as she set down her silver tray. She’d gotten a steaming hot bowl of oatsqueal, and immediately she sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on it. As she stirred the cereal around, it made a shrill sound, kind of like a cross between a badly-played violin and a whistle. Her friends were talking about moneymaking ideas again — to help keep the school afloat while they kept looking for treasure.
“Maybe we could embroider handkerchiefs and pillowcases to sell,” Snow suggested. She was sitting across the table from the other three girls.
“No way,” Cinda said. “I’m totally hopeless in Threads class. I stab myself with my needle when I even so much as think about sewing on a button.”
“Fortune-telling?” suggested Rapunzel. “We could charge a fee to read palms or tea leaves.” She grinned at Red. “Or oatsqueal lumps.”
Red grinned back, then swallowed a spoonful of yummy oatsqueal, which had finally stopped whistling. Like almost everything Mistress Hagscorch cooked, it had a weird name, but tasted delicious.
“I’m not sure I’d be any good at —” Snow started to object.
“Wait! I know!” Red interrupted, excitedly waving her spoon in the air. “We’ve come up with tons of good ideas! So what if we have a school festival with different booths and events and stuff, and use them all!”
The other three girls stared at her for a second, and then slow smiles bloomed on their faces.
“That’s a grimmazing idea!” said Cinda, clapping in excitement. “We could invite everyone in Grimmlandia to come, and sell tickets.”
“It would be a lot of work,” Rapunzel mused. “But it would be worth it if it helped the school.”
Snow nodded. “I bet we could get our roommates and some of the other kids here at GA to help.”
“Let’s keep thinking,” Red suggested. “And jotting down more ideas for booths and games.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Cinda. “And when we’re ready we can tell Principal R about our idea. Making money with a school festival has got to be a surer thing than alchemy!”
The girls all laughed.
“Attention, scholars!” the School Board on the wall above the west balcony chorused. The students quieted and looked toward the row of helmet-heads sitting upon the carved wooden board. Visors clanking, they called out, “Please welcome Mr. Thumb.”
Seconds later, the tiny Drama teacher flew into view on the balcony, riding atop Schmetterling as usual.
“Thank you,” the teacher said, nodding his head to the School Board. Then he called out to the students through his thimble bullhorn. “Auditions for Red Robin Hood will continue in the auditorium throughout the day. All Drama class students are welcome to try out, and all non-Drama students are allowed to skip one — and only one — class period to come watch auditions.”
At this news, a cheer went up in the Hall.
“Are you going to audition again?” Cinda asked Red as soon as Mr. Thumb finished his announcement. Out of the corner of her eye, Red glimpsed Snow and Rapunzel shaking their heads at Cinda.
Huh? Red had been wondering why her BFFs hadn’t mentioned the auditions lately. She’d begun to think they really did doubt her acting ability and thought she should give up on the school play. But was it possible they had agreed not to talk about the subject for fear she would think they were pressuring her? Not because they doubted her talent?
Red considered that. It was kind of like how she, Snow, and Cinda conspired to say nothing about Rapunzel’s hair or her fear of heights.
“Actually,” she said, glancing around at all three girls. “I have decided to audition again.”
“Hooray!” exclaimed Snow, bouncing in her seat with joy. “We didn’t want to bug you about it, but we were hoping you’d try again.”
“Can we come watch?” asked Rapunzel.
“We’d really like to be there for you this time,” added Snow. “You’ll be brilliant!”
Red smiled at their enthusiasm. “Yes, come! Friendly faces in the audience might just help calm my nerves when I step onto that stage again.” She looked at Snow. “Your stepmom’s helping Mr. Thumb judge.”
Snow’s eyes widened. “Yikes. I’ll bring some stuff from my lucky collection to the audition to lend you luck.”
After Mr. Thumb departed from the balcony, the bluebirds that had been flying in and out of the Hall windows swooped down to carry the students’ trays away. The birds returned with small silver bowls of water and fresh linen napkins, and the girls dipped their fingers in the water and wiped them on the napkins. Then they scraped together some toast crumbs to give to the birds in thanks. With her friends around her and a full stomach, Red was feeling pretty good right about then.
But during her first-period Threads class, she started to get nervous. Her fingers shook as she knitted a red-and-green-plaid scarf. She thought about some of the methods Wolfgang had told her he used to combat stage fright.
When Red saw that Ms. Muffet and Ms. Spider were busy helping other students and not looking her way, she set down her knitting needles. After flipping over her scarf pattern instructions, she picked up her goose-feather pen. As quickly as possible, she began to write down all of her fears about the audition as Wolfgang had advised. Then, as she picked up her knitting again, she silently read over what she’d written.
I’m afraid I might:
freeze up
forget my lines
faint again
Red’s knitting needles clicked back and forth as she tried to fight her growing nervousness. If she did freeze up, she could pause and take a few deep breaths to calm down, she told herself. And she was as prepared as she could possibly be when it came to knowing her lines. Yesterday, she’d spent all afternoon in her room brushing up on them. As for her fear of fainting? She’d eaten a good breakfast, so that should help.
She set down her knitting and scribbled more fears on the list:
If I flub again, I won’t get the Red Robin Hood part.
I’m afraid I’m a terrible actor.
So what if she didn’t get the part? she thought. She’d be disappointed, of course. But there would be other plays she could try out for. As for being a terrible actor, it simply wasn’t true. If she really stunk at acting, Wolfgang and her BFFs wouldn’t have encouraged her to try out again.
Then she studied the last fear she’d written:
* * *
I’m afraid I’ll embarrass myself so much that my friends won’t want to be friends with me anymore.
Now that was just plain ridiculous, she thought. She trusted Rapunzel, Snow, and Cinda to be her friends no matter what. After all, she wouldn’t ditch one of them if they flubbed in a big way!
Click, click went her needles as she remembered Cinda’s mess-up on her first day at the Academy when she’d called out Principal R’s real name in front of the whole student body. Come to think of it, that incident had actually made Red like Cinda — even before they’d known each other very well.
Red’s friends believed in her. They wouldn’t dump her just because she did something embarrassing. In fact, they’d probably rally around
her all the more! The thought sent a burst of strength and calm through her. She only hoped it would last through third period.
“Red Riding Hood?”
It was third period and Mr. Thumb had just called her name for auditions. Instant panic set in, just like it had at Friday’s audition. Red moved toward the center of the stage, her heart slamming against her chest. Her hands shook. Her legs turned to jelly. Oh, no! Not again!
She could see Ms. Wicked in the audience, sitting near the stage taking notes on a vellum pad. A new tremor of fear went through Red, knowing how critical Snow’s stepmom could be.
Red took a couple of deep breaths. That helped a little, but she was still s-s-scared.
Then she remembered how Wolfgang had said that his stage fright never really went away. He’d just learned to let himself feel it, but not be undone by it.
And what about her roomie, Gretel? She’d been terrified of returning to the Great Hall to eat. Yet she hadn’t let her fear stop her, either. She’d faced Mistress Hagscorch despite it. Gretel had survived, and Red would, too. She just needed to have faith and to trust herself to do her best, and that would be good enough.
“Spotlight!” Mr. Thumb yelled. The lighting crew in the control booth at the back of the auditorium was fiddling with the candelabra spotlight. They seemed to be having some trouble bringing it up.
Meanwhile, Red saw Wolfgang slide into a seat on the aisle. He’d auditioned earlier in class and had been amazing. Catching her eye now, he gave her two thumbs-up.
A few rows in front of him sat Red’s three BFFs. They smiled up at her. Cinda and Rapunzel held up a glittery sign that read, KNOCK ’EM DEAD, RED!
Break a leg, Snow mouthed. That was theater talk for “good luck.”
Red grinned back at her friends, relaxing some.
Suddenly, the spotlight hit her. She was ready. She positioned herself in a determined stance, opened her mouth and began to speak her lines:
“Yes, Mr. Sheriff, you’re absolutely right. I’m Red Robin Hood and you’ve caught me red-handed!” At first her mouth felt as dry as fall leaves, but she kept going.
