She thought about having to turn to the very back page of the school newspaper last month to find a picture of her cross-country team while the big story about Janelle’s accident filled the whole front page. About how the same thing had happened with the volleyball story and the article about the bracelets. She thought about being the only grade-six girl on the volleyball team. And the only grade-six girl not in the bracelet club. She thought about the first time she had met Janelle and how Janelle had told Mickey to stop teasing her friend. She thought about birthday parties and phone calls and sleepovers where they had giggled long into the night. She remembered trips to the library, to the pool, to the ice rink or for ice cream. She remembered the projects they had done together. Grasshoppers. The Great Horned Owl. Dreaming up Adventure Island.
Then she thought about the tropical-rainforest project. She thought about Jason waiting by the gym, and a hard lump formed in her throat. Julia had called her selfish and accused her of taking things away from Janelle. Then why did she feel so empty? Fixing things up with Janelle would be a lot of work. But was it worth it? And even if she thought so, what did Janelle think? Dana closed her eyes and rolled over onto her side, but she couldn’t get comfortable. It was the pigtails. She pulled out the ribbons. That was another thing. What on earth was she going to do about the play?
Dana finally fell asleep. When she woke up, her mother had already left for a shift at the clinic. Her dad and Dale were emptying out the backyard composter. Dana pulled a box of cereal and a bowl out of the cupboard and brought them to the table. Resting against the back of her chair was a small pillow covered with the red-and-gold fabric. Dana smiled. She had an idea. If she couldn’t have things back the way they were before, maybe she could try to recycle them and make them into something new. She thought about this while she ate breakfast. She thought some more while she made her bed and laid the pretty red-and-gold pillow on top of it. She was still thinking while she brushed her teeth and hair. Laying down the brush, she stared hard at herself in the mirror. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she should do. She had her regular Saturday chores to do, and then she was going to finish watching that DVD.
Seventeen
ON MONDAY MORNING Mr. B. led everyone to the auditorium. Anyone who wanted to be part of the crew was asked to write his or her name, along with a job title, on a piece of paper. Anyone who wanted to try out for the cast was asked to sit in the front row. Dana scanned the chairs. Just as she’d hoped, there was an empty one beside Janelle. She was chatting with Gina. Dana took a deep breath and walked over.
Before Dana could even sit down, Julia was there. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I was just going to sit here, beside Nel—beside Janelle.”
“But that’s my seat. I was saving it. See, I left my sweater on it.”
Dana saw a light-blue sweater hung over the back of the chair. “Oh.” She backed away. “Sorry.”
“So you are trying out for the part then?” Julia asked.
“Yes, well, I—”
“Good luck. I still think Janelle’s got it though.”
“Are you trying out too?”
“I have a role in mind. But I’m mostly here for moral support. For Janelle.” Julia smiled quickly and then sat down. Dana looked for another empty seat in the front row. The only one open was on the end, next to Mickey. So far things were not going according to plan.
“Dana?” called Mr. B. Apparently, sitting on the end also meant she had to go first. She plodded up the steps to the stage.
The tryouts did not turn out to be at all what Dana had expected. She had practiced several lines from the play, but she wasn’t asked to say any of them. Instead, Mr. B. handed Dana a slip of paper with four lines on it. Mary had a little lamb/Little lamb, little lamb/Mary had a little lamb/Its fleece was white as snow. He asked her to read them in a loud, clear voice. She did, although she felt a little silly.
“Thank you, Dana,” said Mr. Bartholomew. “Stay put up there a minute, if you would. Now, here’s how the auditions will go. Dana, be our guinea pig, would you? Read those lines again, but this time say them like you think a cowboy would.”
A cowboy? Why would a cowboy say the lines to a preschool rhyme? Dana looked out at her classmates. Everyone was waiting for her to do something. So Dana pretended to pull down her hat, slipped her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and said the lines in a deep, slow voice.
“Excellent. That’s the idea. Now, how do you think a three-year-old would say them?” asked Mr. B.
A three-year-old? Was he serious? She thought about her little cousin, Lily, who had come over with Uncle Paul and Aunt Darlene for Thanksgiving. Dana turned all the l’s and r’s into w’s. Using a high, singsongy voice, she tried again.
“Mawy had a wittle wamb, wittle wamb, wittle wamb. Mawy had a wittle wamb, its fweece was white as snow.” Not knowing exactly what to do when she was finished, Dana stuck her thumb in her mouth, and everyone laughed and clapped. She felt her cheeks start to heat up, but Mr. B. grinned and thanked her and told her that was all. She could sit down.
Mickey was next. He had to read the same lines, first with a British accent, then with a southern drawl.
“How might a gorilla say them?” Mr. B. asked Amber.
“What about if you were a spy, Allie?”
Everyone laughed at Jason’s dinosaur delivery. He stomped and roared, and his eyes were wide and a little wild.
“Trey, pretend you’re a king,” said Mr. B.
“Can you be a rock star, Neta?” he asked.
“You’re an alien from outer space, Gina.”
“Say them as if you were ninety,” Mr. Bartholomew told Janelle. Her eyes lit up, and she hunched over and quivered and quavered her way through the four lines.
And finally, “How about a mad scientist, Julia?”
“Me? Oh no, I’m really just here to—”
“Give it a try,” coaxed Mr. B.
Mr. Bartholomew had everyone say the same four lines but never the same way. He never asked anyone to say them as if they were Dorothy or a Wicked Witch or a Cowardly Lion. It was ridiculous. It was also fun. Dana had almost completely let go of her fear of playing a part. She’d forgotten about the Dorothy dilemma altogether.
“Thanks, everyone,” said Mr. B. when they’d all had a turn. “That was terrific. I’ll let everyone know tomorrow which part they’ll have, but I already know I’m going to have a terrible time deciding who will play the lead. There are two of you who would be perfect.”
Two? Dana stopped smiling. Oh boy.
Eighteen
“DANA!” AVERY AND Allie ran over to her at the bike racks the next morning. “Do you think Mr. B. will pick you to be Dorothy?”
“Well, I…” Dana unbuckled her helmet.
“Or do you think it will be Janelle? You both want that part, right? Do you think you’ll get it?”
Before Dana could answer, the twins were gone. They had seen Janelle get out of her parents’ car and raced over to her. Dana knew they were asking her the same questions. Either way, it was out of her hands now.
When Dana got into the classroom, there was a message on the board telling the class to head straight to the auditorium. Kids clustered in small groups, talking and laughing. Excitement hummed in the big room. Dana sat down at the same empty seat in the front row and waited. As the second bell sounded, Mr. Bartholomew jogged in, clapped his hands and jumped up on the stage. He grabbed a low stool for himself and asked everyone else to come up and sit in a circle.
“Well,” he began when everyone was ready. “I’m really excited to be working on this project with such a talented bunch. This production is going to be excellent. It’s going to be a lot of work, but if we do it right, it’s not going to feel like a lot of work at all. Thank you to all of you who signed up to be the crew. You’re every bit as important as the actors, and I’m not just saying that. We’ll be counting on you to make everything look and sound spectacular
. I’ve written out your jobs on these sheets. You can have a look at them in a few moments, but first, let’s meet our cast. Let’s begin with who will play Dorothy.”
Dana tensed.
“This role—” Mr. B. didn’t get far before Julia cut in. She jumped to her feet, unable to contain herself one second longer.
“Mr. B., we all know you have to choose between Janelle and Dana to play the part of Dorothy. But please—it’s obvious, isn’t it? You just have to give the role to Janelle. You simply have to. Because of all Janelle has been through. And because Dana still has sports and everything else, and Janelle doesn’t.”
It was very quiet. Julia sat down. Dana knew everyone was looking at her. She looked at the floor. She bit her lip, hard. She didn’t want to be angry, but she was. She wasn’t the one who had broken her leg over the summer. It seemed she was going to be punished for that all year long.
Mr. B. smiled. He nodded. “We all know Janelle has been through a great deal,” he said.
Dana took a deep breath and drew in her shoulders. She tried to steel herself for what she knew was coming.
“We also know she had a great audition and that she would do a wonderful—”
Janelle cut in.
“Mr. B.” She stood up, though it took her a second to get her balance. “Mr. B., I can’t take the lead role.”
“What?” cried Julia. “Why not? Is it too much for you? I can help!”
Janelle shook her head. “First of all,” she said, “Dorothy needs to be able to skip and dance. Not limp around like I do.”
Julia jumped in again. “We’ll pretend she twists her ankle in the tornado!”
Janelle laughed. “That’s very creative,” she continued, “but secondly, and more important, I can’t take the part because of Dana.”
“Dana? Why? What has she done now?” Julia’s lips were set in a thin, straight line.
“No, Julia, that’s not what I mean.” Janelle looked around the circle. “I want to thank you, so many of you, for everything you’ve done for me these last few months. You’ve helped me in all kinds of different ways, and I’m very grateful for all your support. But this is really very simple. The lead role should go to Dana because she would be great in it. She’s very talented, and she’s a very special person. She deserves it.”
Janelle sat down. Julia had a puzzled look on her face. Dana’s heart missed a beat. She let out a huge breath and looked up.
Everyone was quiet. They all looked at Dana, then back at Janelle. “Oh, and Mr. B., I need to tell you one more thing,” said Janelle. “I don’t know if it makes a difference, but the part I really wanted was the—”
“Wicked Witch?” asked the teacher.
Janelle looked surprised. She smiled. “Yes, I think my limp will work perfectly with that role.”
Mr. B. laughed. “I’m sure it will add to it wonderfully, Janelle, but limp or no limp, I already had you pegged for that role the first time I heard you cackle.”
Dana looked up. “That was you?”
“Who else?” said Janelle. She cackled wickedly. The whole class laughed and applauded.
When it quieted down again, everyone looked at Dana. “But Janelle,” she asked slowly, “Dorothy? Me? Do you really think so? What about my…” She hesitated. She cleared her throat. “What about my hair?”
“What about your hair? There’s a wig, of course.”
“Oh.” Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Dana stood up. “Okay, I think it’s great that some of you think I can play the lead role.” She stole a look at Jason. He was busy stuffing his shoelaces inside his shoes and didn’t look up. “But, even if it sounds weird, I need to tell you that the part I really wanted was the—”
“Scarecrow?” asked Mr. B.
Dana nodded. She smiled. “Yes, the Scarecrow.”
Julia looked even more puzzled.
“That’s exactly what I thought. You’d be perfect for that part, Dana. It’s yours.”
Dana sat down. Everyone applauded. She felt her cheeks get hot.
“Jason,” continued Mr. Bartholomew, “I have you as the Tin Man.”
Oh. Dana felt her cheeks getting hotter still. The Tin Man? The Tin Man needed a heart. Jason needed a heart. A heart that had room in it for more than kickball. This was perfect. It couldn’t get any better if Dana had chosen the parts herself.
“And Mickey,” said Mr. B., “you’re the Lion.”
Oh well.
Mr. B. waved the papers he had in each hand. “I have a list here for everyone who will play the Munchkins, and a list here for everyone who will be a Flying Monkey. Allie, you’re Auntie Em. Trey, you’re the Wizard. Let’s put that great voice of yours to work. Amber, I’ve chosen you to be the Good Witch. You’ve got such a lovely smile, we want to see you use it!”
That Mr. B. He saw the potential in everyone.
He went on for a few more minutes. “Well, class,” Mr. Bartholomew said at last, “that’s everyone, I think. We’re off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of—”
“No, wait,” piped up Julia, shaking her head. “Mr. B., if you didn’t choose Janelle or Dana to be Dorothy…” She looked around. “Who did you pick?”
“Ahhh, of course. Dorothy. I almost forgot.” He slapped his forehead and smiled. “Well, Julia, you’ll remember I said I had a difficult time choosing between two people?” She nodded. “One of them was you.”
“Me?” Everyone was stunned. Even Julia seemed surprised.
“You would be fantastic.”
“I would?”
“She would?” asked Mickey. Allie poked him.
“Of course she would,” said Janelle. She started to clap, and soon everyone joined in.
Julia looked confused. She held her hands up, asking for quiet. “Wait. Wait.” She put her hands on her hips. “But Mr. B.,” she said, “don’t you need me to be the director? I didn’t see that role on the crew list, but I assumed that was because, well…” She looked around. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Mr. Bartholomew laughed—a big, booming laugh. “You know, Julia,” he said, “I was going to do that job myself, but if you would be willing to take it on, that would be excellent. Thank you for offering.” He paused. “Well, then, let me introduce Dorothy, everyone. Neta?”
Neta looked like she’d swallowed the script.
“Me?”
“You.”
“Dorothy?”
“Of course.”
Neta rose to her feet uncertainly.
“Take notice, everyone. This girl can sing!” said Mr. B.
The shoes! The blue-and-white shoes! “That was you?” Dana asked. “In the bathroom? Singing?”
Neta blushed. “The acoustics are good in there.”
Dana sighed with relief. Everyone else jumped to their feet and cheered.
Nineteen
THE STUDENTS SCATTERED, looking at lists, talking about the play and their roles in it. Jason and Mickey were already telling the costume crew what they had in mind for the Tin Man and the Lion.
“Everyone,” called out a grinning Mr. B. after a moment, waving his hands to get the class’s attention, “listen up, please. There’s one more cast member I want you to meet. Have a seat for a minute, and I’ll bring him right in.”
Mr. B. disappeared backstage while the students sat down again.
“Who do you think he means?” asked Neta.
“Not a clue,” said Dana. “But I think we’re about to find out.”
Mr. B. came back in carrying a box. “Class,” he announced, “I’d like you to meet Bitsy. My sister, who lives close to the school, has generously agreed to let her little dog play the part of Toto in our production.”
A bad feeling descended on Dana. A little dog? Close to the school? No, she thought, it couldn’t be. But it was. Buddy! The little dog peeked over the side of the box, looked around at everyone and gave a sharp little bark. Then he jumped out and ran straight to Neta.
“Look
out!” Dana warned. But Bitsy didn’t bite or growl. Instead, he jumped up and began licking Neta’s face furiously.
“Look at that,” said Mr. B., chuckling. “It seems you’re friends already.”
“Oh, Dana, look,” said Neta. “Isn’t he sweet? Isn’t he just the cutest? Here, do you want to hold him?”
“No! Uh, that is, we’ve met before, and I don’t think Bitsy likes me.” Bitsy jumped over into Dana’s lap and began licking her face.
Neta looked at Dana, eyebrows raised. “Sure it wasn’t some sort of misunderstanding?”
Mr. B. reached out for Bitsy and held the squirming pup in one arm. “Well,” he said, rubbing the little dog behind the ears, “as long as we don’t put any of our cast members on bicycles, I think things will work out fine. My sister did warn me that Bitsy has a thing about moving bikes.”
Bikes? Dana rolled her eyes and smiled.
Everyone crowded around to see Bitsy.
Julia appeared beside Dana. She already had a pen and paper in her hand. Tomorrow, thought Dana, she’d probably come wearing a beret and snapping one of those “Take 2” signs.
“Well,” said Julia, “parts for everyone, and Toto too.”
Dana laughed. “He seems to like Neta. I think she’ll make a great Dorothy.”
Julia nodded. “Yes. She’s probably good with dogs too. She has two of them, and her mom is a veterinarian.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Dana. She wondered what else she didn’t know about Neta. She thought maybe she’d like to get to know her better.
“Cast meeting tomorrow,” said Julia. “Here’s a reminder.” She scribbled out the message and peeled the piece of paper off for Dana.
Dana stared at the paper. She felt a strange, prickly sensation all over.
“Is there a problem with meeting tomorrow?” asked Julia.
“What? No.” She shook her head. “Julia, you have frog-shaped sticky notes?”
“I wish. Aren’t they the greatest? They’re Janelle’s. You’re sure you can make it tomorrow?”
Ripple Effect Page 6
