Boo Hiss

by Rene Gutteridge

  “Lois, what is going on?” Wolfe asked as the rest of the actors crowded around.

  “I don’t know,” Lois finally said. “One minute I’m doing her makeup, the next minute she’s crying.”

  Mariée looked up, and black ribbons of mascara were falling down her cheeks. “This is awful!” she declared.

  “What is awful?”

  “Look at me! Look at my makeup! I can’t go on like this!”

  “I’m sure Lois can fix the mascara,” Wolfe said, though he did notice, strangely, she looked more like a clown than a woman.

  “I can’t be seen like this. Look at all this blush. And my eyes look like blue cupcakes.” She looked at Lois. “Where did you learn to do makeup?”

  “It looks fine to me. Lotus is a woman who wears a lot of makeup. She’s not afraid of a little color.”

  Mariées hands were shaking. Wolfe said, “Mariée, you’re going to have to calm down. Get ahold of yourself. The show starts in five minutes.”

  Mariée, in barely a whisper, said, “Every woman knows a blonde with my complexion can’t carry off blue eye shadow and red lipstick.”

  “Can’t we wash it? Start over?” Wolfe asked.

  Lois looked at Mariée. “I don’t know if she can pull this off. She’s shaking like a leaf.”

  “Mariée, look at me. Concentrate. Let’s do Scene 5, when the sheriff asks you if you would like to dance. Remember that scene?” Wolfe looked at the sheriff. “Say your line.”

  “Lotus, it would be an honor if you’d dance with me.”

  “Double espresso, periwinkle, onyx,” Mariée said, her stunned expression frozen to her face.

  “Sounds like she’s trying to order coffee,” the sheriff whispered.

  “Strike-a-pose rose,” Mariée said.

  Wolfe bent down to her level. “Mariée, you’re going to have to snap out of it.”

  “Mocha blush duet,” she said as she looked at Wolfe.

  The sheriff said, “Somebody go get this woman some coffee! She wants some coffee!”

  “She’s reciting makeup colors,” Lois said.

  The room grew still.

  “Mariée,” Wolfe said, “can you tell me where you are?”

  “Whipped cocoa,” she murmured.

  “I’m telling you, she needs coffee.”

  “Let me try,” Lois said, stepping closer. “Mariée, honey, I want you to listen to me very carefully.” Mariée focused on Lois, and for the first time blinked her eyes. “Good. Now, can you tell me what Lotus says to Gibb at the end of Scene 6?”

  Mariée blinked again, and her mouth fell open an inch. Everyone leaned forward, willing an answer out of her. But after a few moments, her mouth closed and nothing was said.

  “Mariée,” Lois said, “can you tell me what color of lipstick a woman with medium skin tone, green eyes, and blonde hair should wear?”

  “Warm tones in the brown family.”

  Lois turned to the crowd. “I think her nerves finally got to her.” Lois lowered her voice. “I’ve been afraid this might happen.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” the sheriff asked.

  “The show must go on.”

  “How?”

  Lois drew in a deep breath. “I will be playing the role of Lotus.”

  Well into the second act, Wolfe was pleased. The crowd seemed engaged, and he was actually having a lot of fun. During one part of his narrative, he’d made eye contact with Ainsley and nearly started laughing, but for the most part, the play was holding up well. But then again, they hadn’t come to the ending. He hoped the crowd was familiar with the literary term tragedy.

  Wolfe stood offstage, waiting for his cue. He was pretty impressed with all the actors. Everyone had really turned it on for the performance, and was giving a hundred and ten percent. Even the sheriff had looked like he was really weeping in the scene when Lotus tells Bart about Gibb.

  Wolfe closed his eyes and mentally rehearsed his upcoming scene, but was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

  “Butch! What are you doing here?” Wolfe whispered.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “We’re right in the middle of the play! I’m getting ready to go on!”

  “It’s important. Tarffeski’s on to me. He confronted me today, told me he knew I had the snake, and said he would get it, no matter what.”

  “Can we discuss this afterward?” Wolfe glanced toward the stage. It was almost time for him to walk on. He looked back at Butch and noticed he was holding a suitcase. “What’s that for?”

  “The snakes in here.”

  “What?!”

  “I had no choice. Tarffeski’s in the audience, waiting to pounce on me. I had to do something. I figured he wouldn’t come backstage while the play was going on.”

  “You took your father’s suitcase?”

  “It’s the only way I could transport Bob and Fred from one place to the other safely. See, it’s got a buckle instead of a zipper, so they can’t weasel their way out unless you undo these two buckles.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because, like it or not, you’re involved. You’re going to have to keep an eye on the snake until after the play. If I’m back here too long, Tarffeski will get suspicious. I’ve got a plan to expose him for who he is and convince Dustin he’s not to be trusted. But for now, we just have to keep the snake safe.”

  “But … wait … “ Wolfe reached for him as he walked away but came up empty-handed. He realized his cue was ten seconds away. “Butch! Wait! I can’t watch the snake! I’m in the …” He stepped onstage and into the spotlight. He was so out of breath he could hardly get his next line out. “As you can imagine, Lotus was torn between the two men she loved. What was she to do? How would she ever know for sure who was the right man for her? Who could she trust to watch out for her?” Wolfe couldn’t help but glance sideways to make sure the suitcase was still there. He looked back toward the audience, keeping his composure. He saw Butch slide into a seat at the back. “Lotus was going to have to search her heart. After everything she’d been through with Bart and Gibb, she knew there was only one right man for her. And she was about to find out who that was.”

  Wolfe slid offstage and stood by the suitcase. Thank goodness the show was almost over. But something told him that was when the drama would really begin.

  Lois stood in the wings, waiting for her cue. She felt like she was flying. It had been years since she’d been onstage, and she was still owning the audience. They hung on her every word, noticed every time she touched Bart or Gibb, and cried when she cried. At least a few did. There was a certain energy in the room that made the impending climax that much more spectacular. The crowd was holding its breath, waiting to see which man Lotus would choose.

  This was what she’d been waiting for, what every actress strives for. That one scene that would define her for the rest of her acting career. The lights were slowly coming on, and a tingling sensation rushed through her. Thankfully, it sounded like Mariée had been shut up again. Lois had to send Wolfe back there a third time to get her to stop wailing. It was breaking everyone’s concentration. She drew in a deep breath and reached down to grab her prop, the suitcase. But strangely, there were two suitcases. One was right next to her, and the other off to the left, hidden a little. Why two? Had the first one broken, and someone brought in a replacement at the last minute?

  The lights were almost completely up. She rushed to get the second one. It was fancier anyway, with adorable buckles instead of a zipper. Wolfe was coming around the corner just as she walked on, and he thought she heard him yelp, but she had to ignore it. She was already onstage. Maybe he’d stubbed his toe. This suitcase was awfully heavy for a prop. Had someone put a brick in there?

  She watched Sheriff Parker stroll across the stage toward her. There was a certain pain in his eyes. It looked a little too real. But that was the price he paid for double-crossing this woman. Humiliation in the form of a good theatr
ical slap.

  “Lotus, you’re leaving? Why now? I thought we loved each other. I thought we were meant to be.”

  “We aren’t meant to be, Bart. Than what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m going to marry Gibb.” The gasp from the audience nearly caused a breeze. She stared hard at Bart, and at this point Bart was supposed to skulk offstage like a whipped puppy. But there was no skulking. Bart wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t Bart moving?

  She looked across to stage left, and Martin was preparing to enter as Gibb. He looked a little confused, since Bart wasn’t going anywhere. The crowd was quiet.

  “Did you hear me, Bart? We aren’t meant for each other. I’m going to marry Gibb. “She went ahead and dropped the suitcase since it was so heavy anyway and she always made good use of her props. It fell to the ground with a dramatic thud, then tipped over. Bart still didn’t budge.

  Apparently not knowing what else to do, Martin decided to walk on. Lois ran into his arms, and Martin swung her around just like they’d practiced. “I love you!” he added. That wasn’t in the script, but she went for it.

  “I love you too, Gibb” She glanced behind her and Bart wasn’t offstage yet. The lights were about to fade on them and come up on Wolfe, who was moving into place.

  But suddenly the sheriff said, “No, you don’t.”

  Lois dropped from Martin and turned. “Yes, I do.”

  “No you don’t. You don’t love him and you know it. You’re just getting back at me. But your true love is Bart. Me. You love me.”

  Lois didn’t have to act. She was so stunned she did the unthinkable and looked out at the audience. They looked to be anticipating the next line as eagerly as she was. What was she supposed to say?

  Bart … the sheriff … whoever … walked toward her and took her hands. “I love you. And you know how I know that? Because I haven’t felt like this in years. You make me feel alive again. My whole life used to revolve around my job and my cat and my family. My cat got hitched, my daughter got hitched, and my job is my job. But you are the one thing that can make my heart feel young again. Let me take care of you. Let me love you for the rest of our lives.”

  The crowd came alive with satisfactory murmurs. Lois didn’t know what to say. Was he talking to Lotus? Or her? Or both? She looked into his eyes, and something told her that they weren’t onstage anymore. This was real life.

  “Not so fast!” From behind her, Martin shoved his way between them. “You can’t just come in here and expect her to fall for you just like that. I’m the one who has won her heart, not you. You heard her. She’s going to marry me!”

  “Not without a fight,” Sheriff Parker said.

  “I’m not scared of you. Bring it on.”

  Before Lois could even motion for the lights to go down, the two men were brawling right there onstage. The audience was cheering and clapping and thoroughly enjoying themselves. She looked back at the men who were wrestling and stumbling all over the stage. With one hefty push, the sheriff shoved Martin backward, and he fell over the suitcase in the middle of the stage, causing both buckles to pop open.

  Lois stepped a few feet to the side, realizing at some point she was going to have to come up with a clever line, because Wolfe looked like he’d been zapped with a stun gun. With the men still wrestling, Lois decided to address the audience. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to say, but maybe some witty remark about middle-aged men and their wrestling abilities would get everything back into focus.

  She opened her mouth, but what came out was a scream. She shut her mouth quickly, but the scream kept going. And then another scream. It was the audience. People were screaming. She turned and realized why. She started screaming too.

  “Snake! It’s the snake! Snake!” Panicked voices were announcing the obvious fact that the two-headed snake was slowly emerging from the suitcase. Lois could only think of one thing. A two-headed snake was stealing her show.

  The adage was right: never act with animals or kids. They’ll always upstage you. Well, she wasn’t going to be upstaged without a fight.

  But before she could do anything about it, a man from the fourth row bounded up onto the stage and, with one swift motion, snatched the gun out of the sheriff’s holster, then grabbed Lois and turned her to the audience. Lois wanted to shriek, but the man said, “Shut up and you’ll be fine.”

  He then addressed the audience. “Listen up. I just want one thing, and if I get it, nobody gets hurt. See that snake? I leave with that snake safely in my possession, and nobody gets hurt. But one wrong move, and this lady isn’t going to make it to see Bart or Gibb. Got it?”

  Lois watched the crowd cling to one another, their eyes wide with fright. She could hardly breathe.

  “Now, I’m going to take this snake and move slowly out of the theater, and as soon as I feel safe, I’ll let the lady go. But if anybody makes one wrong move, you’re going to regret it.”

  The man started to bend down, but out of the corner of her eye, Lois saw something move and tackle him, causing Lois to fly forward and land on her stomach. She rolled over to find the sheriff flipping the man over and cuffing his arms behind his back. And then, just as quickly, he turned to the snake, which was hissing from each mouth, grabbed it just behind its necks, and stuffed it back into the suitcase. He quickly buckled it closed.

  Then the sheriff rushed over to her and scooped her off the ground, which was no easy task. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and touched his face. He was bleeding just above the brow. “You saved me.”

  “I would do anything for you. Just give me a chance.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I’ll give you a chance.”

  Suddenly the crowd erupted in applause. People were on their feet, clapping as loudly as they could, wiping tears from their eyes. Lois looked over to Wolfe, who had the end line for the entire play. But to her surprise, he was lying unconscious on the floor.

  “Oh no! Is he okay?” Lois gasped.

  “He passes out at the sight of blood.” The sheriff set her down and took a step back. “Take a bow. You deserve it.”

  And so Lois stepped to the front of the stage. She stretched out her arms like an eagle about to soar. Below her she could hear people saying to one another, “What an ending!”

  “I never saw that coming!”

  “How clever to use the snake!”

  Lois bent forward, swept her arms in front of her until they dangled to the floor, then lifted herself up and smiled broadly at her new fans.

  Throwing kisses to them, she said, “Good night! And God bless!”

  CHAPTER 30

  “SMELLS GOOD. IS there anything I can do to help?” Wolfe asked, joining Ainsley in the kitchen at her dad’s house.

  “It’s almost ready. But I do have a favor to ask of you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Can you go up in the attic? There’s a box in the corner, and it has something special I want to use for the Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Sure. Where is it again?”

  “Just go up in the attic, and it’s in the corner by the window. You can’t miss it.”

  “Okay.” Wolfe went out to the garage and pulled down the ladder. He climbed up. The attic was stacked with boxes and memorabilia all over the place. He wasn’t even sure he could get to the corner. Luckily, due to the window, the room was well lit.

  Trying to make his way through it all, he accidentally stumbled and knocked over a box. Papers and photographs spilled everywhere.

  Wolfe groaned as he knelt to try to pick it all up. But as he did, he noticed something peculiar. These didn’t look like normal photographs. And in fact, as he looked closer, he realized they were combat photos. And the papers looked like official government documents. He flipped through them and saw Butch’s name, as well as his picture among other soldiers.

  “What are you doing?”

  Wolfe looked up to find Butch coming up through the attic door. “I-I’m sor
ry, Butch. I thought you were at the station. I accidentally knocked over this box. It belongs to you. I was just gathering it all up to put it away.”

  Butch walked over to him and looked down at the box. “I don’t keep super classified stuff here. Just some good memories.” Butch knelt beside him and picked up one of the pictures. “What a story this was.”

  Wolfe stared down at the obvious evidence of Butch’s past, shame sweeping through his heart. “Butch … I want to say I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to admit, but I doubted you. I doubted this. I thought you were making it all up.”

  Butch smiled. “It’s pretty unbelievable. Some of the things I’ve gone through are downright scary They’d make some great stories if I could tell someone.”

  Wolfe stood up, holding two photos in his hand. “What if the stories happened to be fiction?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, they’re changed up a bit. It’s a real story, real people, disguised in a fictitious setting.”

  Butch knelt down and stared into the box. “Cleverly disguised.”

  “I could bring these stories alive, Butch. Everything you’ve been through.”

  “Some of them may sound far-fetched, but it’s all really just about being human and surviving what seems impossible through the grace of God.”

  “And maybe half the battle is at home, where you can’t tell anyone what your life is really like.” Wolfe paused. “I’d be honored to be your storyteller.”

  The two men embraced and patted each other on the back.

  “Why don’t we talk after Thanksgiving dinner?” Butch asked.

  “Good idea. Besides, I was supposed to be fetching some box for Ainsley. She said it’s in the corner.”

  “I can help.”

  They walked through the crowded attic and found the corner by the window, but Wolfe didn’t see a box.

  “All that’s here is a baby cradle,” Wolfe said. “What box is she talking about?”

  “This was Ainsley’s cradle. I can’t believe Dad has kept it all these years. Hey, there’s a note in here. Has your name on it.” Butch handed it to him, and Wolfe opened it up. It read, Congratulations. You’re going to be a dad.