by Ann Herrick
Later, Josh made two spectacular leaping catches to foil a couple of near-runs, giving me something to cheer about besides Sandy Cove’s good pitching.
Finally, in the bottom of the seventh Josh got a hit. The inning ended with him left on base. In the top of the ninth Saybrook scored on a one-run homer. There were three quick outs after that, but the damage had been done.
I chewed my lip as I checked Sandy Cove’s lineup. "There are three batters before Pres and Josh are up," I said to Celeste. I crossed my fingers. "I hope they at least get enough hits so Pres and Josh will get a chance to bat." Otherwise it would be all over for Sandy Cove, and maybe for Josh.
The first batter struck out. The next batter walked. The third batter bunted and was tagged out at first, but the runner safely advanced to second.
"Pres is up at bat," said Celeste. "I hope he gets on base."
I wanted Pres to walk or get a hit, too. But, disloyal as it seemed, I found myself hoping he didn’t hit a home run, because if he did the game would be over and Josh wouldn’t get another turn at bat. I wanted Josh to be the one to win the game, even though I knew, deep down, that one person alone was never really responsible for a win. I wanted it to come across that way long enough to impress Brady Bailey. A career in baseball meant so much to Josh. Right now it meant just as much to me, even if it would mean not seeing him for a long time. What made him happy was important to me.
Pres swung at the ball. He hit it.
Celeste and I stood and cheered.
The ball sailed over the infield and dropped between the center fielder and the left fielder. The crowd jumped to its feet, cheering and clapping and stamping until I was sure the stands would collapse.
Josh strode up to the plate.
I stood and shouted my encouragement. "Yea, Josh. A hit! Get a hit!"
"You sure are cheering hard for Josh," Celeste said. "I thought Pres was the one you liked so much."
"Josh is the one who wants to play major league baseball," I yelled over the noise of the crowd. I knew I really didn’t have to explain to Celeste, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Alicia Johnson straining to hear every word we said.
Josh let the first pitch pass. The umpire called a strike. The Sandy Cove fans booed.
The next pitch whizzed over the plate and a second strike was called. A worried murmur mingled with boos floated through the stands. The players on the Saybrook bench stood up, looking ready to celebrate.
The next pitch drifted in. This time the umpire called a ball. Josh dug his toes into the dirt, pulled his bat back a little, and on the next pitch smashed the ball over the right field fence.
"Yea, Josh!" I yelled, hugging Celeste.
"They did it!" Celeste shrieked, as she squeezed me back.
The runner on second and Pres made it over home plate to score and win the game. As Josh was trotting between third and home, the stands emptied and everyone engulfed him and the rest of the Sandy Cove team. I saw Pres grab Josh. He and another player carried Josh off the field on their shoulders.
I thrashed my way to the field trying to get to Pres. I managed to worm my way to him. Josh was back on solid ground and Pres was congratulating him over and over.
"Pres, great game." I was able to give him half a hug despite all the other bodies encompassing him.
"Thanks." Pres planted a sweaty kiss on my cheek. It didn’t make me short of breath the way Josh’s had. But then, why should it? Now I was happy, not embarrassed.
There was so much pushing and shoving that I struggled to stay on my feet. A flailing arm sent me flying into Alicia Johnson, who had her arms around Josh and was kissing him awfully enthusiastically for mere congratulations.
On the other side of Josh I saw Brady Bailey trying to get his attention. A strange sensation crackled in me, sort of like anger, but not quite. Whatever it was, it made me grab Alicia’s arm and pull her away from Josh.
"Alicia, this man wants to talk to Josh." I nodded in Mr. Bailey’s direction.
"Thanks." Mr. Bailey smiled at me before turning to Josh. "Young man, I’d like to have a few words with you, if we can work our way out of this crowd."
Mr. Bailey had no trouble plowing a path more than sufficient for himself and Josh to get through.
"You didn’t have to yank me away from Josh like that," Alicia said. "I was only congratulating him."
"Sorry if I was a bit rough." That strange feeling jerked inside me again. "I just wanted to make sure Josh got to talk to that man. He’s a baseball scout."
"Really? I can just picture Josh in a major league uniform." Alicia sighed. "He’d be handsomer than ever."
I was about to say that Josh was more concerned with the game of baseball than how he’d look in a uniform, when someone tugged at my arm. It was Celeste.
"Great game, wasn’t it?" Celeste croaked. I could hardly hear her.
"Perfect finish," I said, feeling proud of both Pres and Josh.
"Right," Celeste squeaked.
"Sounds as though you’re losing your voice from all that yelling and cheering," Alicia said with a smile. "Don’t worry. I can fill in for you at rehearsal tomorrow night …."
Don’t worry? My hands sweated at the thought of Alicia rehearsing with Pres. I’d do more than worry. If Celeste’s voice wasn’t better by tomorrow, I had every intention of panicking.
Chapter Twelve
To look at me I’m sure no one would have guessed I was on the verge of hysteria as I watched Alicia and Pres rehearse a tender moment that would lead to the kissing scene. I gripped the arms of my chair to keep my hands from shaking. If Josh, sitting next to me, could hear my heart pounding like someone trying to break down a door, he gave no indication.
"Alicia’s pretty good," Josh whispered. "I hope Celeste’s laryngitis is only temporary." He sounded as worried as I felt.
I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice. I was surprised at just how good Alicia was. She wasn’t as good as Celeste, of course. There was a spark when Celeste and Pres did the scene that was missing with Alicia. But otherwise she was very good. Now I could see why Bill had made her the understudy.
What if Celeste didn’t have simple laryngitis? What if she’d done extensive damage to her vocal chords? Then Alicia would get the part of Alta and be thrust into the middle of Pres’s life— right where she wanted to be.
I could see Celeste standing in the wings scrutinizing the scene on stage. I flashed her a weak smile of encouragement. It obviously pained her to watch Alicia doing so well in her role.
It was almost as painful for me to watch, especially with the kiss coming up. It was a tender moment that fit beautifully into the play, but now I wished I’d never included it. Offstage the sound effects crew produced the sound of a cannon in the distance. James and Alta embraced to kiss before they would return the cannon fire from the tiny arsenal building that they alone were defending.
"All right." Bill stood up from his seat across the aisle from me. "Let’s hold it a minute."
I could hardly believe my ears. A reprieve. Maybe Bill was going to eliminate the kiss.
"That embrace is a bit stiff," Bill said. "This is an emotional moment for James and Alta. It’s supposed to lead up to a passionate kiss."
A passionate kiss? Oh, no. I sunk low into my seat.
"I say passionate," Bill continued, "because there’s a lot going on here. James and Alta are scared, because all the other soldiers defending Sandy Cove are at the river, expecting the British to attack there. Actually the British are approaching the shore near the arsenal where James and Alta went as soon as they saw the British ship in the harbor.
"Also, they reconciled not long ago, when Alta realized she was in favor of the revolution after all, and therefore sided with her husband. They’re charged up over their chance to ward off the attack. So in one embrace and kiss you have to capture their fear, love, bravery, and even their sense of adventure. This is an important scene and I want you to rehearse it until I think it’s right."
&nb
sp; I could not suppress a low moan. I wondered how conspicuous I would look if I covered my face with my hands.
"Acting can be such grueling work." Josh chuckled.
If it’d been anyone but Pres up there on stage I probably would’ve laughed, but in this situation I failed to appreciate the humor.
"Nice work if you can get it," Josh said when I didn’t respond.
"Shhh." I elbowed him to be quiet. It would be difficult enough to watch Pres and Alicia without having to listen to Josh joke about it.
Pres’s and Alicia’s first attempts at the scene were stiff and awkward. I was tempted to suggest that I fill in for Alicia and show her how it should be done, but I knew Bill wouldn’t approve of that idea. Suggestions were one thing, but I knew he’d want to leave the acting to the actors. If only Celeste would get her voice back.
Pres and Alicia looked clumsy and uncomfortable even when they attempted to follow Bill’s directions, giving me hope that Bill might give up and postpone rehearsal until Celeste’s voice returned. Celeste looked as though she would scream if she could. It must’ve been killing her to watch Alicia fill in for her.
"Hey," Josh whispered, "do you think Pres is hot for Alicia?"
I was so startled by Josh’s remark that all I could offer in response was a feeble, "Huh?"
"Well," Josh said, "I’ve had the feeling lately that Pres is interested in someone. But he’s always so close-mouthed about his love life. I can’t coax anything out of him."
My mind formed a split screen. On one side danced the hope that I was the one Pres was interested in. On the other side stalked the fear that Alicia was impressing him with her kissing skills.
Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, Bill was satisfied and he halted the rehearsal for the evening. Alicia looked like someone who’d just received secret inside information that she was about to be crowned Miss America. Pres looked weak in the knees.
"Rehearsing that love scene so long must have worn out poor Pres," Josh joked as Pres wobbled across the stage, Alicia right on his heels.
"Alicia seems to have survived the ordeal," I said. I stood up and turned to talk to Celeste, but she was already heading toward the dressing room. I turned back to Josh. "I’ve got to pick up my jacket and purse. See you at the car."
"Okay," Josh said.
I decided to cut through the stage rather than take the longer route from the side door leading to the staircase. I picked my way through the ropes dangling in back of the curtain and carefully sidestepped the props stored backstage. Then I heard a voice whose words made me freeze.
"You’re the perfect Alta." It was Pres. His voice came from under the staircase.
I stepped into the shadows and peered into the darkness. As my eyes adjusted I could see the outline of Pres and a girl embracing under the stairs. They were kissing. My stomach churned. They swayed, and a shaft of moonlight from a high window caught the girl’s long black hair. Alicia. It had to be Alicia.
I put my hand over my mouth. I was afraid to breathe. I pressed up against the wall, hoping I’d disappear. After what seemed like forever, the two of them drew apart and slipped down the stairs together.
I waited until I heard the door leading out to the back parking lot close, then peeled myself off the wall and ran to the dressing room. I hoped Celeste was there so I could unburden myself about what I’d just witnessed. When I got there the dressing room was empty except for my jacket and purse. I sat down for a few minutes, breathing deeply to compose myself. Somehow I’d have to get through the ride home without scratching off Alicia’s face.
Finally, I gathered my things and walked as calmly as possible to the car. I was the last one there. A small note of triumph arose from my heavy heart when I saw that somehow Celeste had managed to once again get in the back seat with Pres and Josh. Even though it meant I would have to sit next to Alicia, at least she couldn’t get her hands on Pres.
The ride home was interminable. No one except Josh said anything. Thank goodness for his enthusiastic chatter about the championship game and his talk with Brady Bailey. It sounded as though Mr. Bailey had been very impressed with Josh. At least someone’s dream was coming true.
At home, just walking from the car to the house with Pres made me tense. I’d never really pictured him with another girl, especially not Alicia. I longed to ask him about it, but I certainly didn’t want him to think I’d been deliberately spying. So I walked along in an uncomfortable silence until we got inside, where I yawned elaborately and made a dash for the sanctuary of my room. I threw myself on my bed and grabbed Arf. I remembered Sylvester, who’d been a gift from Pres after all, and I hugged both stuffed animals.
I’d have to think of what to do. First thing in the morning I’d come up with a plan. No, first thing in the morning I’d call Celeste. Since the next day was Saturday, we could go somewhere really private and talk. If Celeste still could talk.
Poor Celeste. It would be almost as traumatic for her as it was for me. Alicia was obviously after the role of Alta every bit as much as she was after Pres.
Pres, the innocent victim. What did he know about girls like Alicia, with their wiles and cunning?
***
The next morning I woke up still clutching Arf and Sylvester. A foul film lined my mouth. I got up, shed my rumpled clothes, pulled on my robe, and headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a shower. If only I could wash away the memory of seeing Pres kiss Alicia as easily as I could brush away the bad taste in my mouth.
I passed Pres in the hall and he mumbled a groggy good morning. It didn’t seem that kissing Alicia had any lasting ill effects on him. He just looked tired, not doomed or cursed or anything. Too bad. I would have felt better if he had.
After I showered, dressed, and forced down some breakfast, I called Celeste. A deep raspy voice answered the phone and I wondered if I had the wrong number.
"Hello?" I said. "May I speak to Celeste?"
"This is Celeste."
"I didn’t recognize your voice. Your voice, you can talk. Out loud!"
"More or less," Celeste squeaked.
"Thank goodness. I was getting frantic."
"You? Why?"
"Because—never mind. I’ll tell you later. Can we go somewhere and talk? Somewhere private?" I didn’t want to take a chance that Pres or Josh might overhear us.
"Sounds mysterious." Celeste always did like any situation that was even remotely clandestine. "How about the library?"
"No." I had visions of Alicia lurking behind every shelf. "I know. Let’s go to the park overlooking the town beach. Meet me at the corner of Wharf Lane and Maple Avenue?"
"Sure," Celeste said. "Just give me ten minutes to get ready."
On my way to meet Celeste I ignored the occasional drops of rain that splattered on my head. I quickened my steps as I got closer to Maple Avenue. I couldn’t hold in the details of what I’d witnessed last night much longer.
Celeste was nowhere in sight when I reached the corner. I stamped my feet, as much to alleviate my exasperation at Celeste for not being there as to ward off the unexpected morning chill. I wished I’d worn my parka over my sweater.
Finally, after I was reduced to hopping in place to keep warm, Celeste rounded the corner at full speed, her cheeks glowing red.
"Sorry I’m late. I had to feed the dog before I left. There was no dog food in the pantry, so I had to get some from the garage and—forget it. Let’s get to the park before it rains." Celeste pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head. "Unless you think it’s …" She cleared her throat and continued, "...safe to tell me here."
I surveyed the hedges, shrubs, and trees that lined the street. No telling who might be skulking around behind them. "We’d better go to the park." I paused. Then, "By the way, your voice sounds a lot better. Think you’ll be okay for the next rehearsal?"
"Oh, I think so," Celeste said. "It’s improved a lot just since yesterday, and the next rehearsal isn’t until Monday ev
ening."
"Good. Good." I walked faster. It was all I could do to keep from running. I wanted to get to the park and tell Celeste all about last night, to warn her about Alicia.
When we got to the park I looked around to make sure no one was hiding behind or up a tree, then dismissed the thought as ridiculous. How would Alicia know that Celeste and I were at the park? Still ....
"Let’s sit over there." I pointed to a solitary bench clear of bushes that might shroud any spies. "It’ll be best if you’re sitting down when I tell you everything anyway."
"Okay," Celeste said. "But let’s get it over with. It looks as though it might pour any moment."
We sat on the green wooden bench and I told Celeste about what I’d seen in the shadows backstage.
"I knew it was Pres right away," I said. "I recognized his voice. At first I couldn’t tell who he was kissing, because I couldn’t see her face. But when the moonlight reflected off her hair, I knew for sure."
"Who was it?"
"Alicia Johnson. The rat."
"Are you s-sure?"
"Positive."
"You—you’re really that sure? But—but how?"
"That long black hair that she’s forever combing—oh. I forgot. Before Pres kissed her he said, ‘You’re the perfect Alta.’ She’s after your part as much as she’s after Pres. Doesn’t that make you sick?"
Celeste nodded.
"Yikes, you look green." I felt Celeste’s forehead. "Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, you’re getting your voice back, so there’s no way Alicia could ever get your part."
"No, I’m glad you told me." Celeste leaned back and sighed deeply. "It’s you I’m worried about. You like Pres so much and ...." Her voice trailed off for a second. "I don’t want you to get hurt."
"Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan."
"Already?" Celeste chewed her lip.
"It’s okay. Just listen. I started thinking while I was waiting for you at the corner. Step one: I’m going to stick like glue to Alicia at rehearsals from now on. No way will she have a chance to be alone with Pres." I pounded the bench.
