There were some giggles from the audience, but Matthew still couldn’t bend low enough.
So Marsha took matters into her own hands. She pressed down on Matthew’s shoulders, hoping to bend the box. Instead, Matthew lost his balance and fell over backward, taking the cardboard kettle with him. He landed flat on his back and was stuck there, like an upside-down turtle.
But the fall must have jolted his memory, because it was at this awkward moment that Matthew suddenly remembered his lines. And from the fallen granola box, we heard:
Grains like wheat and corn and rice
stand tall and straight and taste so nice.
The audience was roaring with laughter by now, especially the older kids. The teachers couldn’t quiet them. I actually felt sorry for Matthew. I’m sure his parents were out there watching.
Other than Marsha, I was the one standing the closest to him. I marched very matter-of-factly over to Matthew and helped him get up. Then I helped Marsha set the kettle back up. In the middle of the laughter, some kids started applauding, so I bowed politely once and returned to my place behind the curtain.
The artichoke was the last one to go on, and I think everyone, especially Marsha, couldn’t wait for the play to end. She really wasn’t handling this very well. As for me, I thought it was fun. I was looking forward to my big moment.
I popped up from behind the kettle, but before I spoke, I gave one of my biggest smiles. I was so glad I spent all that time practicing. As I smiled, I looked at all the faces to see if I could see Mom and Grandma. I couldn’t find them, but I did see someone I knew right down in the front row. It was Hank! He must have been interested in my acting after all. This was so exciting!
I cleared my throat and said loudly:
Eat your veggies every day.
They’re full of fire and vitamin A.
Then I twirled and twirled to the front of the stage just like Susan did. This was not hard at all, I decided. As I spun in front of the line of kids, I thought I heard a snicker. Then a giggle. As I spun past Thomas, I was sure I heard him say, “She said it wrong!”
Was that possible? Could I, Annie Pitts, star of stage, say my lines wrong? I went over the words in my head as I continued to spin. I had said:
Eat your veggies every day.
They’re full of fire and vitamin A.
Fire? I said fire? At that very instant, I realized my mistake. At that very instant, I also spun right into granola Matthew, knocking him into Thomas, the bunch of grapes, who of course fell on top of Ayuko, the milk bottle, who then rammed into Gregory, the blob of spaghetti, squishing him into Max, the egg, making him trip over Maria, the banana. It continued like this right on down the line.
Pinned under Matthew, I couldn’t get up, but I could see everyone fall, one by one, just like dominoes, only in slow motion.
When the final chocolate bar had fallen, the only one left standing was Marsha-Miss-Do-the-Right-Thing. She was holding the sign that said GRAND FINALE just like she was supposed to do. The last thing we heard was the audience laughing and Miss G. yelling, “Curtain, curtain!”
When the curtain closed, we all struggled to get up for the final song. This took a while, but the audience was laughing and clapping the whole time. I never felt so humiliated in my entire life. I, Annie Pitts, had ruined the play.
And here I was standing next to, of all people, Matthew. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say about my performance. Whatever it was, I deserved it. But he surprised me when he whispered, “Wasn’t that awesome! Everyone crashing all over the place? Annie, you were great!”
I didn’t agree with him, but I thought that was a compliment, so I said, “Thanks.” I also think I heard him call me Annie, not Fish-Face, so I said, “Thanks” again. Maybe my Matthew problem was finally over.
When we were somewhat in order, Miss G. stood in the center of the line. The curtain opened, and we sang our grand finale. We sang about bones and blood and muscles and teeth. It was a gross song, actually, but there we were, singing our little hearts out. Well, if the show must go on, then I would go with it. I sang every verse without a single mistake.
When the song was over, we all bowed. Except for Matthew. He wasn’t taking any chances this time. The audience cheered and clapped. Hank jumped up from his seat and handed Miss G. a bouquet of flowers. I thought that was so theatrical!
When the curtain finally closed, everyone marched happily off the stage. Miss G. caught up with me. She put her arm around me and said, “Annie, I want to thank you for helping Matthew. Now that’s what I call working together.”
“But I messed up the play,” I said.
“No, you didn’t,” she said. “You didn’t follow directions, but sometimes a surprise or two is a good thing. That’s why I enjoy having you in my class.” That was two compliments in one afternoon! I guess my mistake wasn’t that bad after all.
Then she gave me a hug. A teacher hug is one of the best kinds, and I, Annie Pitts, got a teacher hug that afternoon.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After we changed out of our costumes, we met our families in the gym for refreshments. There was a table full of food with little cards attached to the plates and bowls listing the ingredients for each dish. My idea of refreshments is bug juice and Rice Krispies Treats. But Miss G. felt that nutritious treats would be more appropriate. There were cut-up vegetables, a spinach pie, all kinds of cheeses, whole-grain bread, and some things that I had never heard of before, like tabouli and couscous.
I found Mom and Grandma at the end of the table, piling the stuff onto their plates. Mom gave me a squeeze and said, “Great play, honey. You really brought the house down!”
“I guess I did, didn’t I,” I said, laughing.
“I hope you aren’t upset,” Mom continued. “I’m sure every great actress has made a mistake or two. But it shouldn’t discourage you.”
I knew Mom was trying to cheer me up, but I really didn’t feel so bad. I wasn’t going to let one little mistake stop me. I was still serious about becoming a real actress. In fact, I would go right up to Hank and tell him I was ready to be in his commercial. I’d show everybody how serious I really was!
I looked around the room for any sign of Hank. I didn’t see him, but I did spot Matthew heading my way. He was munching on a rice cake, and the little pieces were falling all over his shirt.
Between bites, he said, “You know, this play turned out okay, but my brother and I make much better stuff. We make up stories for monster movies. Then we videotape them. He does most of the shooting, and I play the monsters. I even get to carry around a fake head sometimes. He’s got some great ideas.”
I was surprised to hear all this. “I thought you got stage fright,” I said.
“I don’t like to get up in front of a hundred people! But I think it’s fun to make monster movies. Besides, you can always cut out the mistakes.”
“You mean, like my little accident?” I asked.
“No way! That was the best part.” Matthew laughed and pretended he was me, spinning. A rather poor imitation, I thought.
“Anyway,” he continued, “my brother says we need to get some more actors. If you want, you can be the Swamp Monster, or something like that.”
Matthew waited for me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. Sara and I always made up plays about brave princesses and wizards. But I guess an actress shouldn’t be too fussy about what parts to play when she’s just starting.
So I said, “Okay.”
“Great!” Matthew said. “I’ll tell my brother.” Then he headed back to the food table.
“Such a nice young man,” Grandma said after he left. “That was Matthew, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s Matthew,” I admitted.
“The same Matthew you smacked with a dead fish?”
“He asked me if I wanted to be in his monster video. I said I would. Is that okay?”
Grandma looked very serious and said, “It wouldn’t invol
ve dead fish, would it?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered. “Maybe just some guts and stuff.”
“Sounds lovely,” Grandma said. “But I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Perhaps you’ll finish this for me.” She handed me a plate of greenish stuff.
“What is it?” I asked. I wasn’t about to eat something that strange-looking without asking.
“Artichoke hearts,” she answered.
I was poking around the green stuff when Miss G. came over. “Try it, Annie,” she said. “It’s so delicious.”
“And fresh, too!” A familiar voice boomed from behind her. It was Hank. “Say, speaking of artichokes, weren’t you the one who spun out of control today? Ho, ho, ho!” He was, of course, impressed by my performance.
“I was,” I admitted. Then I smiled one of my practiced smiles. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask if I was also the kid who flung the flounder at Shopper’s Supreme.
At this point, I expected Hank to ask about my being in a commercial, so I said, “Is there something you’d like to say?”
“Why, yes,” he said with great enthusiasm.
He stepped to the front of the room to make an announcement. This was it, I thought. He’s going to tell everyone that I’ve been chosen to be in his commercial!
“May I have your attention, please!” he shouted.
I didn’t expect him to be so dramatic, but he was, after all, an actor.
When everyone was quiet, Hank made his speech. “I’d like to remind everyone that all this food was donated by Shopper’s Supreme— the only store you need for all your shopping needs! Our catering and take-out departments are open at seven a.m. for your convenience.”
Supermarkets? Why is he talking about supermarkets, I wondered. Hank turned and walked back to the food table, while I tried to figure out what had just happened.
Miss G. giggled and said, “Isn’t he wonderful to do all this? I invited him to the play, and this is what he did!”
I finally realized that Hank wasn’t here to see me. He was here for Miss G. “You invited him?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” Miss G. said. “We’ve been dating ever since we met that day at the supermarket. We have so much in common. We’re both interested in nutrition, and we both retire soon. Hank’s already talking about opening a health spa together! We’ll call it Ranch Rutabaga.”
So that was it. I wasn’t going to be in a commercial after all. Maybe Miss G. will be in one. I can picture her and Hank together. She can hold up the yogurt and smile, while Hank announces the flavor of the week.
That was okay. I did have another offer. I would be Annie Pitts, Swamp Monster. Besides, I already had a green scaly costume. And those artichoke hearts would make terrific guts ...
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