by Unknown
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STOOPING TO CONQUER
E. Joan O’Callaghan
Even up in the projection booth, I could see the worried look on Melissa Casaubon’s face.
Understandable. She Stoops to Conquer was just one week away from opening. Theatre critic Harley Craddock would be in the audience and that could be Melissa’s big break. Our local summer theatre, Straw Hat, was just a stepping stone for her. Who knew where a favourable review from Harley would lead? Directing at Stratford? Niagara-on-the-Lake? New York?
Truthfully, everyone was on edge and it wasn’t just because of Harley Craddock. Lisa Moncrieff playing the part of Kate Hardcastle, flubbed her lines once again. Melissa turned, caught my eye and nodded. I leaned over and whispered the line into the mike. Lisa looked confused for a moment and then repeated what I’d said.
Walking home after rehearsal, Lisa was quiet. Finally, she spoke. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Penny. I’ve never had trouble remembering my lines before. I played Rosalind in As You Like It last winter and never missed a cue. Now I can’t remember my lines, I get dizzy on stage, and nauseous –” Her voice trailed away.
I nodded sympathetically. I‘d seen her in As You Like It, as I’d seen her in most everything. After all, we’d grown up together – elementary school, high school, and now university. I was at York too – majoring in English. Lisa was in Fine Arts – drama. Both of us were involved with Straw Hat. Lisa on stage and me behind the scenes.
Lisa was a great favourite and for good reasons. She was majoring in theatre and she was pretty. Long blonde hair, blue eyes. A real ingénue. Just right for the part of Kate. She Stoops to Conquer was our second production of the season. Our first had been I’ll Be Back before Midnight. Lisa played Jan.
The problems actually began to appear in that production. Lisa was stumbling over lines, forgetting some. It was out of character for her, but I guess it was okay because Jan is supposed to be recovering from a nervous breakdown, so the audience just thought it was part of her mental state. And truth be told, she wasn’t all that bad. Things had deteriorated since then.
“Probably all you need is a good night’s sleep,” I said. “We’ve been at it pretty steadily since the season began. You’re just stressed out.”
She shook her head. “Don’t think so. I’ve been in lots of productions and never felt any stress other than some jitters when the curtain goes up. I’m not sleeping very well. I take gravol for my stomach and it’s supposed to knock you out too, but nothing helps. I don’t sleep and my stomach is still upset.”
“Why don’t you talk to your doctor?”
“Because he’ll just tell me the same thing. Get some rest – it’s just stress.”
I shrugged. “Well, then, try yoga or something like that. It’ll help you concentrate.”
At rehearsal the next day, nothing was right. The paint the stage crew was using on the sets was the wrong colour, and in one of his more exuberant moments, Larry Dubeau, who played Tony Lumpkin, managed to break a vase that was one of the props. We were already incorporating whatever we had in the way of props, costumes and makeup into our rehearsals. Lisa looked garish in her stage makeup, the rouge and eye shadow accentuating her pallor.
Melissa called time and we took a break. I came down from my perch up in the projection booth and followed her outside. Melissa lit up a cigarette and was quiet for several moments.
“Penny,” she said, “how well do you know the play?”
“I know it pretty well,” I said with some hesitation. “I’ve been at all the rehearsals and I have to follow the script. Why?”
She took a long drag on her cigarette and swept her other hand through her cropped grey hair. Then she turned to face me. “If necessary, could you play the role of Kate? I don’t know what’s wrong with Lisa but she can’t seem to get a handle on the part and I can’t risk her constantly missing cues and flubbing lines on opening night. Not with Harley Craddock in the audience,” she added grimly.
“I suppose I could do it if I had to. Let’s hope it won’t be necessary.”
I walked home by myself, mentally running over Lisa’s lines and picturing her moves. My copy of the script had all the blocking marked down so I knew exactly where and when characters were supposed to move on stage. If Lisa couldn’t get it together in time for opening night, there was no question that I was in line to understudy her. Stage managing meant that I was constantly immersed in the script.
I was at rehearsal early the next day. I had the crew up on ladders positioning the lights - lekos, fresnels, and gels, and I was in the projection booth giving instructions over the mike. Although, we would have a full technical rehearsal a couple of days before the dress rehearsal, Melissa wanted to make sure the lights were in the right places and not casting shadows over the actors.
Rehearsal was no better than it had been on the previous nights. I could hear Lisa stumbling over her lines. I was busy cuing Bill who was on the lighting board, and running through the lighting for the first time, when I heard Melissa shouting my name. I ran down to the stage. Melissa was on her feet, her hands clenched and shaking the script at Lisa who was in tears.
“What the hell’s the matter with you? We’re a couple of days away from opening and you’re getting worse, not better. By now you should know what you’re doing. Now move. You’re supposed to be centre-stage, not off to one side.”
“I can’t,” Lisa sobbed. “The lights are hurting my eyes.”
“Since when? You’ve been under lights before. This is nothing new. Come on,” Melissa tried cajoling her.
“Let’s take a break,” she said, finally. “Penny, stay with Lisa. Maybe you can get her focused.”
I took Lisa’s arm and led her backstage to the dressing rooms. “Here.” I handed her a bottle of cold water out of the cooler. “Your makeup is running. Crying’s making it worse. I’ll touch it up before we go back out. Do you want to run through the next scene before we start?”
Lisa twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long swig. “I just want to relax for a few minutes. Why are we doing makeup so soon anyway? We usually don’t do makeup until dress rehearsal.”
“Because Melissa needs to see how everything looks under the lights in case something has to be changed.”
“Isn’t that what the tech and dress rehearsals are for? Why can’t we wait?”
I shrugged. “You know how it is. She’s all wound up about Harley Craddock being in the audience. She wants everything perfect. This could be her big break.”
“What about me? I don’t want to look like a fool in front of him. Why is she stressing me out like this? Just because she wants to look good in front of him.”
“C’mon,” I said. We’ve only got a couple of minutes left. I’m gonna fix your makeup now.”
She sat quietly while I reapplied foundation, rouge and eye shadow.
Melissa called for us to start again. I went back up to the projection booth and watched thoughtfully while they did the second act. Somehow Lisa made it through and Melissa let her go without stopping her.
When rehearsal ended, Lisa shot out the door. I took my time, noting some minor changes in the lighting and then cleaning up backstage. I made sure all the props and costumes were stored. I was sorting the makeup when I heard something behind me. I whirled around and there was Darren Fraser lounging against the doorway. Darren played Marlow, Lisa’s love interest in the play. My throat went dry, as much from his nearness to me as from being startled. Darren always had that effect on me. I quickly shut the makeup case and ran my hand through my short dark curls.
“Hi.” He flashed that thousand-watt smile. “I was looking for you.”
“Well, you found me.”
“Yeah. I was just talking to Melissa. She said if Lisa can’t pull herself together, you’re going to play Kate. “
I looked at him. “I sure hope it doesn’t c
ome to that.”
“I don’t want this thing to get screwed up. Why don’t you come an hour early tomorrow and we can have a run-through, just you and me. Before Lisa gets here – so we don’t upset her.”
I hesitated and then said, “Okay.”
I hurried home. I spent the next morning memorizing lines. I already knew most of them. Darren was at the theatre when I arrived. We did a quick read-through. He only had to correct me a couple of times. Then we read the lines and walked through the blocking at the same time. I was pretty confident with that because I’d seen it so often from the projection booth.
We still had a bit of time before the rehearsal was supposed to start, so Darren suggested we grab a sandwich. I was walking on a cloud. Me and Darren Fraser. I felt my stomach do a flip-flop.
We took our sandwiches and soft drinks and found a convenient bench. Darren casually draped his arm across the back of the bench behind me. “What do you think is wrong with Lisa? I’ve been in other productions with her. She’s never had problems like this.”
I shook my head. “Don’t know. Maybe stress. ”
“She’s no more stressed than the rest of us.”
“Lisa’s a perfectionist.”
Darren looked at his watch. “C’mon. Time to go in.”
That night was the technical rehearsal, so we didn’t focus on anything else. I suggested to Melissa that the cast should be in full makeup and costumes anyway, so we could see the total effect. I noticed that Lisa was moving with some difficulty. She held onto the backs of chairs and sat listlessly when I applied her makeup. When I asked her how she was feeling, she just said she was tired. She’d stayed up late working on her lines.
Darren was waiting for me again. I had to put everything away first, and then we walked home together. “You know,” he said to me. “You’re pretty good. I can really see you as Kate. How come you didn’t try out?”
I hesitated, not sure how much I should say. “I’ve always thought of myself as a behind-the-scenes person. I guess it just never occurred to me to read for a part.”
He leaned over and kissed me lightly. “They say there should be some chemistry between the leading man and leading lady. Let’s see how that works.”
I caught my breath and looked into his grey eyes. “Did you try for chemistry with Lisa?”
He laughed and took my hand. “I’ll never tell.”
Dress rehearsal was the next day and it was a disaster. Part way through the first act as she was making an entrance, Lisa collapsed and we couldn’t get bring her to. Melissa was on her hands and knees patting Lisa’s face and putting tissues soaked in cold water on her forehead, but nothing worked. Lisa’s breathing was shallow and her stage makeup made her look ghostly.
Melissa told me to call for an ambulance and then rode with her to the hospital. The rest of us sat at the theatre and waited for news. The mood was pretty sombre. Nobody said much. Mostly we just sat and waited and worried.
After a while, Melissa called. The doctors didn’t know yet what was wrong with Lisa. A whole battery of tests had been ordered. Meanwhile, Melissa wanted us to go on with the rehearsal and for me to play Kate. It was a pretty sure bet that Lisa wouldn’t be able to open the next night. I told Bill to take over in the projection booth, and moved into place on stage. That secret rehearsing with Darren paid off. We were able to carry off the dress rehearsal with surprisingly few difficulties.
I was awakened early the next morning from a pleasant dream about Darren by the ringing of the telephone. It was Melissa.
“Can you meet me at the coffee shop in an hour?”
She was waiting for me when I arrived. A cup of coffee was already on the table in front of me. “How did the dress go last night?”
“Not too badly. I think we’ll be okay for tonight. I know how much you have riding on this, Mel. Everyone’s gonna do their best. Any word on Lisa? I didn’t know whether I should call her parents.”
Melissa took a long sip of her coffee and stared out the window. “Best not to call. They’re pretty upset. I spoke to them before I phoned you. Lisa’s doctor called this morning. He said the symptoms are consistent with lead poisoning, which is pretty rare. I’m telling you this, but don’t say anything to the others. I don’t want anyone panicking. After all, Lisa’s the only one with symptoms.”
“Lead poisoning?” I frowned. “I think I read somewhere that one of the causes of the Roman Empire falling was lead poisoning. The water pipes were made out of lead and it fried their brains or something. Is there something wrong with the water system?”
“They’re not sure what caused it, or if it even is lead poisoning, but yeah, they’re gonna check everything, just in case.”
“How’s Lisa this morning?”
“Not good, but no worse than last night, so I guess that’s something. Obviously she’s in no shape to be on stage, so I want Bill to take over stage managing for tonight, since you have to play Kate. Can he do it on his own?“
“He took over from me last night and he was fine. He’s meeting me at the theatre in an hour so that I can go through everything with him.”
“Good.” She nodded. “ It’s too late to change the programs, so we’re printing an insert announcing that you’re playing the part of Kate.” She sighed. “Lead poisoning. Can’t believe it.”
“Weird.”
I spent a couple of hours running through everything with Bill, then I went home and took a nap. I wanted to look and feel my best when I went on stage. I washed my hair and left early for the theatre.
The buzz of excitement was palpable. Melissa called the cast and stage crew together for a pep talk. She began by telling them that Lisa was in hospital and still undergoing tests but her condition was stable. Then she told them what they already guessed, that I would play Kate in her place. With that she told us in the time-honoured tradition of the theatre, to break a leg.
I was pumped and so was Darren. He ran his hand through my hair and told me that from now on, I was his Kurly Kate. I laughed and we agreed to meet after the show to walk home together.
The performance went well as I knew it would. Everyone tried extra hard to compensate for Lisa’s absence. The audience laughed in all the right places and Bill told me he thought he saw a smile on Harley Craddock’s face even from as far away as the projection booth. Melissa was ecstatic. She hugged all of us and told us we’d outdone ourselves.
I told Darren to meet me at the stage door. It would take me a while to get ready. I took my time changing out of my costume into my jeans, and cleaned my face. When I was sure I was alone, I packed up the stage makeup I’d used only on Lisa, the makeup I’d doctored with lead powder at the beginning of the season, knowing the hot overhead lights would make her skin absorb the lead and eventually poison her, opening a spot for me. I wrapped her makeup in plastic bags, and as Darren and I walked home hand-in-hand, tossed the package into a dumpster.
“What’s that?” He asked.
“Just some garbage,” I said and smiled up at him.
Sometimes you really do have to stoop to conquer.
Joan O’Callaghan is a recipient of the Golden Apple Award from Queen’s University Faculty of Education for Excellence in Teaching; named Professor of the Year by OISE/UT Students Council, as well as Most Engaging English Instructor and Most Inspirational Instructor.
She is the author of three educational books as well as two e-shorts: George and For Elise.
Visit Joan at her FaceBook Page
or Tweet with @JoanOcallaghan
INCOMPETENCE KILLS
M.H. Callway
Competence is a commodity in low supply. Amazing that the world functions at all really. But incompetence does have an upside: it creates such temping opportunities for predators.
Like me.
You’d never give me a second glance. In appearance, I’m pale and bland. The only remarkable thing about me is a black spot under my thumbnail. If you bothered to get to know me better, you�
��d recognize it as a sign of my true nature.
Inconspicuous and invidious.
How trusting you people are. The coffee cup unattended in the food court, the step too close to the subway platform…
Innocent and inattentive.
Lucky for you that I’ve learned to, shall we say, engineer my violent tendencies.
Take Miranda, for instance, chattering on her phone all day long in the cubicle next to mine. Hardly a conversation, I call it “monversation”: a non-stop stream of complaints about her miserable lack of challenge at work. Well, perhaps if she actually did some work for a change…
Indolent and incompetent.
So this morning I gave her the challenge she so fervently desired. I hacked into her computer system and slid a dollop of company cash into her personal bank account. The amount? Perfectly equal to her frightening lawyer’s fees, a figure helpfully supplied through the echo-chamber of her office.
Indiscreet and incompetent.
Shock and awe as security marches her off the premises. I rub my black spot, savouring the blissful quiet now that she’s gone. And, I want you to take note, no violence necessary.
I soldier on, in blind service to the company, the brave widow in tech support. You see, I’m mourning my dear, departed Barry, once the head of software engineering. Our marriage lasted only a year, how sad. Especially after the hard work to pry him loose from Miranda.
I rub my black spot.
Barry and Miranda, two dullards joined together in a live-in arrangement of convenience. Yes, Barry’s paid-off house and his investment portfolio, plumped up by thrift and a boring life, proved convenient indeed.
For me.
Boring and bland on the outside, red fire on the inside. Barry and I were more alike than he ever knew. Quite the challenge to crack his security codes so I could ferret out his favorite kinky websites and become his fantasy woman.
