"Romeo murdered Tybalt. Romeo must die!" A rousing cheer followed. A shiver ran through me when I realized that they were getting ready for a good old-fashioned lynching.
"The girl who disobeyed her exile must also die."
"Mimi of Manhattan must die!"
Imagine hearing a group of drunken warriors shouting your name and following it with a must die. Suddenly I missed my superspecial tagline: Great-granddaughter of Adelaide Wallingford. The tagline Must Die totally sucked.
Staying out of view, we crept around to the side of the house. Stone walls muffled the guards' ruckus. The errand boy's crate sat empty and the little courtyard beneath Juliet's balcony was awash in moonlight. Juliet stood on the balcony, her frizzy hair tumbling over the shoulders of her white nightgown. I was about to call up to her when Romeo touched my arm. "Who is that?"
"That's Juliet," I whispered.
"Juliet," he repeated. He dropped the bag and took a cautious step forward. Right then and there I knew, as sure as I knew my heart was beating, as sure as I knew my lungs were expanding, that once again, something amazing was about to happen. And it did.
Sweet, sad Romeo, severed from his family and from Rosaline, grieving the murder of a friend and his own act of murder, took a deep breath and came to life. It seemed as if the air in that courtyard contained a higher concentration of oxygen. As his lungs filled he began to glow. It looked like someone had painted him with liquid moonlight. The dull eyes that had imprisoned sorrow ignited, as if backlit by a Wallingford lighting technician. Moonbeams danced through his brown hair. Troy and the friar were breathing the same air, yet neither of them glowed. It had nothing to do with oxygen. Romeo had fallen in love.
"Hello," he said.
Juliet gasped and leaned over the railing. "Are you an angel?" she asked, squinting from his glow. Okay, so she might have squinted because of the glare bouncing off his sword, but believe me, the guy glowed.
"I am Romeo," he said.
Even if you haven't read Romeo and Juliet, you're probably familiar with the balcony scene--the most famous scene in the entire play. Troy and I had acted this scene countless times. The lines played out in my mind. Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.
"Go on," Troy whispered to Romeo. "Say it." He was playing out the scene just as I was, expecting Romeo to begin reciting Shakespeare's line, What light through yonder window breaks?
But Romeo did not recite Shakespeare's line. In fact, he didn't say anything for a full minute--an uncomfortable span of silence. Neither did Juliet, who gazed down from her perch with a shy smile.
William Shakespeare might have given his young lovers all sorts of sophisticated things to say, but in this version, my crazy version, they were just a couple of kids. Romeo, still in shock from the night's horrors, and Juliet, terrified by what the next day would bring, were as surprised by their sudden attraction as any two people would be. They stood mesmerized, floating in the moment of knowing that they were more attracted to each other than to any other person on Earth.
Finally, Juliet broke the silence. "Why have you come?"
Romeo moved into the courtyard. Troy, Friar Laurence, and I stayed in the shadows, shameless eavesdroppers. "I have come to escort you out of Verona."
"Where would you take me?"
"I would take you wherever you should like to go." He rested his hands on his hips. "You do not wish to go to a nunnery, do you?"
"Never." She smiled and leaned farther over the railing. Her nightgown rustled in the faint breeze. "I wish to become an actor. I might even write a play."
He broke into a huge grin. Wow! That was the first time I saw him smile. "That is a great wish." He didn't take his eyes off of her. I don't think he even blinked.
Suddenly, Juliet became self-conscious. She straightened up and tried to flatten her hyperactive hair. "If you have heard any rumors that I have boils on my bottom or that I have onion breath, they are not true."
"I would never believe such rumors."
"Does it bother you that I am a Capulet?"
"No. Does it bother you that I am a Montague?"
"No." She draped herself over the balcony again, resting her chin in her hands. "My mother once loved a Montague. Have you ever been in love?"
"Not until this very moment." He gazed and gazed and gazed some more. Like Copernicus staring at the sun, realizing that he had discovered the center of the universe.
Troy took my hand and whispered his line, "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." I didn't pull away, but I felt very confused. I wanted to curl into his arms, but was it because he had saved my life? Was it because I was scared? Was it because I had never really gotten over him? Or was it because of this place, electrified by Romeo and Juliet's mutual attraction?
They could have stared at each other all night but time was of the essence. I slipped from Troy's grasp and stepped out of the shadows. "Hi, Juliet." Troy and the friar followed.
"Mimi? Is that you? Why are you dressed like a boy?"
"It's a long story. There's been a change of plans."
And that is when the balcony door burst open.
Twenty-three
***
"To sleep, perchance to dream ... "
Friar Laurence, Romeo, Troy, and I darted into a thicket of vines directly beneath Juliet's balcony. Lady Capulet's sinister voice shattered the romantic atmosphere and squeezed my stomach into a knot. To this day her voice occasionally comes back to me, permanently stuck in my head like shrapnel.
"Tybalt is dead!" she announced. "Murdered by Romeo, son of Montague. Oh, the horror. Such terrible tidings on the eve of your wedding." Wooden shoes paced above our heads. "The guards have gathered and will seek revenge at dawn's light. They have orders to kill the boy on sight."
"On sight?" Juliet asked.
"I hope they kill every Montague they find. Even that little liar who pretended to be one of us. She made me look like a fool." She had read the letter. Juliet said nothing. The pacing ceased. "My daughter, I know you were fond of your cousin Tybalt, but do not allow these circumstances to weigh heavy on your mind. We shall proceed with the wedding tomorrow, as planned. Then Paris's men will be added to our own to avenge Tybalt's murder. I must go comfort your father. Tybalt was his favorite nephew."
"Yes, Mother."
"Come inside and sleep. You must be beautiful and fresh for your wedding."
The balcony door closed. We waited for Juliet to reemerge but she didn't. "Do you think the coast is clear?" Romeo asked. "I shall go to her."
"No," I decided. "I think I'd better do it." It was totally crazy of me to volunteer to put myself back in the viper's den. But someone had to. Romeo would slow things down with all his gawking and gazing. "I've been inside her room and the house. I know where to hide if I need to."
"Mimi," Troy objected.
"I'll be fine."
I started to climb the vine. I had never climbed anything in my life. It wasn't like I had spent my summers at camp, mastering the obstacle course and rope ladder. To my surprise, the climb was fairly easy since the vine had grown on a wooden trellis. I swung my legs over the railing and lowered myself onto the balcony without a sound. If Lady Capulet found me, I'd be slain, my body left in the gutter to be eaten by sixteenth-century, troll-sized rats. I listened at the door, then cautiously cracked it open.
Nurse stood at the table, folding laundry. "It's her ladyship's orders. Get yourself into bed."
Juliet cast a quick glance my way. She jumped into her bed and pulled the covers to her chin. "I'm in bed. Now be gone, Nurse. I cannot sleep with you fussing about."
"Such a beastie," Nurse said. She lifted a dress from the laundry basket--my costume from the play. "Don't know why you wanted me to clean this. Her ladyship will have a fit if she sees it."
"Give it to me," Juliet demanded. Nurse did and Juliet shoved the dress und
er her pillow.
"Such a vile mood. Can't blame you, though. I was married once. Did you know that? Nervous as a pig in a slaughter house the night before me wedding." Nurse cleared her throat and her ruddy face turned even redder. "Has her ladyship discussed the matter of wifely duties with you?"
I winced. Last thing we needed right then was a sex education lecture.
"Nurse, please go," Juliet urged.
But Nurse kept folding. "You've a right to be nervous. That man is foul, he is. This wedding breaks me heart." She began to sniffle. "You may be a beastie, but you're me beastie, you is. And I can't stand the thought of him locking you away in that palace, which is what he'll do. A man like that treats a woman like she's no better than an obedient dog." She dabbed her puffy eyes with her grimy apron hem. "I wish this wedding would never happen."
Juliet leaped from the bed. "Do you speak the truth, Nurse?"
" 'Course I speak the truth." She blew her nose on the edge of her apron.
Juliet clapped her hands together. "If I had a way to escape this wedding, would you keep it a secret?"
"Escape?" Nurse let go of her apron. "Why, Juliet, child, I've prayed to God every night that you might escape."
"Swear it, Nurse. Swear you will keep the secret."
"I swear. On me old heart and me mother's grave, I swear." Juliet waved at me and I stepped into the bedroom. "Heavens," Nurse cried. "It's a Montague!"
"No," Juliet said, clamping a hand over Nurse's mouth before she could scream for help. "It is Mimi. She has come to help me." Juliet lowered her hand, and Nurse gawked at my clothing.
"She's a boy?"
"No, only dressed as one." Juliet opened her bedroom door and peered down the hall. Then she shut the door. "The coast is clear. What is the new plan?" she asked worriedly. "Why are you early?"
I tried to explain calmly and succinctly. "Romeo's banished from Verona and, as you know, I'm exiled. Troy is no longer welcome at Montague House. The three of us must leave before morning light, so if you're coming with us, you must take the sleeping potion right now."
"Sleeping potion?" Nurse asked. "What nonsense is this?"
"It is the only way I can avoid bringing dishonor to the family," Juliet explained. "Tell me, Mimi. Is it true that Romeo killed Tybalt?"
"Yes, but it was to avenge Mercutio's death. Tybalt murdered Mercutio." Juliet nodded, for she didn't need to be convinced of her cousin's violent nature.
"Are you still coming with us?" I asked. "Yes," she replied.
I ran onto the balcony and leaned over the railing. "Friar Laurence," I whispered. "She's ready."
The friar was not built for climbing. His stout legs had zero flexibility and his fat gut kept pressing against the ivy, throwing him off balance. Troy and Romeo gave him a push to get him started. After much grunting, he crash-landed onto the balcony. His robe twisted around his legs, exposing lily white calves. "Heavens," Nurse said as I helped the friar to his feet. "Me old heart can't take so many surprises."
"My good woman," Friar Laurence said, smoothing his robe into place. "My old heart concurs."
"Nurse has sworn to help," Juliet explained.
"Where is the potion?" the friar asked.
Juliet pulled it from her sleeve and held it up for all to see. "Shall I drink it now?"
"You don't have to do this," I reminded her. "You can just leave and not fake your death. That is still an option."
"I cannot shame my family."
"Then drink the potion, my child," Friar Laurence said gently.
It was a momentous occasion. Juliet raised the vial as if to make a toast. In the play, Juliet says, Romeo, I come.' This do I drink to thee. But this Juliet did nothing of the sort. "To freedom," she said with a blinding smile. "To sweet, sweet freedom!" The friar, Nurse, and I held our breaths. There was no going back now. We stood on a slippery precipice. What could go wrong? What hadn't we considered? What if we couldn't wake her? What if it didn't work? Tipping the vial to her lips, she drank the potion in a single gulp. "Horrid," she complained, scrunching her face. Then she frowned and stumbled sideways. "I'm dizzy."
The friar and I steadied her before she tipped over. "I thought you said she'd have ten minutes."
"It must work quicker on one so young," Friar Laurence guessed. We led her to the bed and helped her lie down. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Me poor little lamb," Nurse said. "Her face is so pale, it is."
"The potion is working," Friar Laurence said. "It creates a mask of death."
"I am so dizzy," Juliet mumbled. "The room spins faster and faster."
"When you wake up, I'll be by your side," I told her, taking her hand. It had already turned cold. A blue tinge spread across her lips. I could actually feel her body shutting down.
"I am sorry to make my parents sad," she said, her voice drifting away. "I never wanted to make them sad." I wanted to remind her that her parents had imprisoned her, had sold her body to a total creep just because he had money and power. But I didn't. She knew those things yet she still loved them. She didn't want to bring misery to them, the misery that all parents feel, be they wicked parents or not, when a child is lost.
Her lids stopped fluttering.
Nurse began to cry again. "She's dead, she is. Me poor little lamb."
Friar Laurence bent over the bed and gently opened one of Juliet's eyes. "She is sleeping yet she appears dead. Do you understand?" Nurse shook her head and cried even louder. The friar took her by the shoulders and spoke to her with a calm, reassuring voice. "All will be well. It is time for you to go tell Lord and Lady Capulet that you have discovered Juliet dead. If you say anything about the potion, Juliet will not be free and we will all die. Do you understand this?" Nurse nodded. "Go now."
Nurse took one more look at Juliet, then shuffled from the room. Friar Laurence and I rushed to the balcony, closing the door behind us. Troy waited at the top of the vines to help the friar. He had an easier climb down, thanks to gravity. Standing in the courtyard he brushed a few ivy leaves from his robe. "I will go to the front of the house and claim that I have come to bless Tybalt's body," the friar explained. "Most assuredly I will be summoned to Juliet's room. Once the Capulets have seen and touched their daughter, once they are certain that she is dead, I will pretend to discover the sign of plague--swellings under her arms. I guarantee that everyone will flee the room and action will be immediately taken to remove the body from the house."
"What do you want us to do?" Troy asked.
"Wait at the tomb. Romeo knows its location. I will bring Juliet there as soon as possible." Friar Laurence stroked his silver cross. "May St. Francis bless us all." He picked up his bag and hurried on his way.
It was to be another long, sleepless night. I hoped that, when it was over, Romeo would have his love and Juliet would have her freedom. But what would Troy and I have? Were we to become imprisoned in this place or would this bring about an ending?
I told you at the beginning of this story that one year had passed since these events. Certainly it is no secret that Troy and I made it back to the twenty-first century; otherwise you would not be holding this book in your hands. But we almost didn't make it back. I shudder to think how close we came.
Turn the page for the grand finale.
Twenty-four
***
"Thus with a kiss... "
The wait seemed an eternity as I worried about everything that could go wrong. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, after all, and I was messing with its inherent elements--despair, suicide, doom. Maybe it's impossible to carve a happy ending from a tragedy, in the same way that you can't drink fire and you can't light a candle with water. It just can't be done.
Romeo had led us to the cemetery, an eerie place crowded with towering statues and ominous tombs. Built above ground, the tombs came in all shapes and sizes--one-room structures for the less prosperous, monstrosities for the mighty. Though moonlight made it difficult to hide, we found a place in the shadows betwee
n two small tombs. Fortunately, the summer night was warm so we were comfortable in our thin shirts. My adrenal glands pumped away, still in the fight-or-flight mode. Every sound became magnified as I listened for the friar's approach, but I heard only creaking tree limbs and scurrying vermin.
Dread descended, as it usually does just before some-thing really great happens--or something really horrific. Every minute that passed meant less time for us to get ahead of the Capulet search party. I started biting my fingernails. "What if" was the theme of the moment with Romeo and I volleying it back and forth like a tennis ball.
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