Perchance to Dream

by Lyssa Chiavari

  “Wait.” Her hand shot out to seize Patricia’s arm in a death grip. “He—he’s right. No, no, no, he can’t be right…”

  Patricia looked at him suspiciously, all the while trying to wiggle her arm free. “How did you know that?”

  Kurt grinned, oblivious to the chaos he had wrought. “History is my jam, man! Especially stuff about firearms and battles and all that.”

  Grizz rose to her feet, her heavily lined eyes bugging out with rage. “If you knew that, then why didn’t you say anything?!” she screamed, balling her hands into fists that shook. “You had to keep your mouth shut until my costumes are almost finished, until the theater festival is almost here?! What, did you think it was funny?!”

  Kurt scratched his ear nonchalantly. “Oh, I didn’t know ‘til I went to the house, and then I did some reading on it. Dad has tons of books on local stuff.”

  Grizz stood there on the spot, quaking for a moment. Then, suddenly, she lunged, brandishing her long, hot-pink fingernails at Kurt. “DIE!”

  Ben and Patricia leapt to intervene, Patricia holding Grizz from behind as she kicked and screamed. “Death is too good for him,” Grizz screeched, her red-tipped hair flailing about. “Tar and feather him! Give him the rack!”

  Suddenly her head whipped around, her attention now focused on the costumes that lay a few feet away. “Ruined! All ruined!” Ripping herself from Patricia’s grasp, she flung herself onto her knees and snatched the half-finished jacket, pulling furiously at it to rend it in two. “All this time—wasted! I’m gonna be a laughingstock! I’ll have to work night and day—no sleep for me—to fix this idiotic mistake!”

  “No, Grizz, stop!” Patricia cried, diving to grab the jacket from Grizz’s hands.

  Grizz held on stubbornly, tugging violently on the fabric as she whimpered, “How could Kurt Minola be smarter than me?!”

  “Grizz, stop, stop!” Ben pleaded, forcibly lifting her to her feet by hoisting her by the underarms. “It’s okay, you didn’t know!”

  Patricia stood and put her hands to Grizz’s shoulders. “Grizz, I didn’t know, either! And neither did Peter, or any of the others!”

  Ben nodded and shrugged. “Me, neither. I think one of the times I went the tour guide even said something about the Civil War.”

  “Yeah!” Patricia nodded encouragingly. “And the tour guides talk so fast, and the house is so big! I don’t think the rifles actually came up that much.”

  Grizz’s shoulders heaved as she slowed down her breathing. Then her eyes filled with tears. “It probably was on one of those information signs out front,” she said with a sniffle. “Why didn’t I do more research? What kind of a writer am I?” Gazing at Patricia, she whispered, “I’ve ruined the play.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Patricia said soothingly. “Look at the gorgeous costumes you made—Mrs. Winchester’s dress can stay the same!”

  Grizz nodded slowly, her makeup running down her cheeks. “That’s true…”

  “And the guys’ clothes are pretty similar,” Ben told her. “I mean, we can look it up to be extra sure, but I don’t think they would need much altering.”

  “Yeah.” Then Grizz’s face fell again. “But the script… my characters…”

  “Well, Kurt says that history is his ‘jam’, right?” Turning to Kurt, who’d been standing there looking quite uncomfortable, Patricia lifted her eyebrows expectantly.

  He nodded. “Yeah, and I love Westerns.”

  Patricia smiled. “There, see? Kurt will look stuff up and help you adapt your script.”

  Grizz eyed Kurt suspiciously. “You will?”

  Kurt shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, sure thing. My dad has tons of books, and we can also look online. I can help with the costumes too,” he surprised them all by volunteering. “I have a ton of cowboy hats and boots and stuff.”

  Grizz furiously wiped her face with her sleeve, taking a deep breath and returning to normal. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she declared, reaching into her bag for her keys. “Let’s get a move on! To Casa Minola! Away!”

  As Grizz gathered the costumes and prodded Kurt out of the auditorium, Patricia smiled and turned to Ben. “Well, hopefully that will work out.”

  Nodding, Ben said, “He really listens to you.”

  Patricia looked surprised. “Huh? No, he doesn’t,” she said, laughing uncomfortably.

  “No, really,” Ben insisted, putting his hands in his pockets. “He just agreed to helping Grizz, he’s been buckling down and applying himself like you encouraged him to, and when he had me take him to the Winchester Mystery House this weekend, he wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

  Patricia’s eyebrow crinkled in surprise. “Really?”

  Ben nodded and dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Um, Patricia, I…”

  Patricia stared at him, holding her breath as she waited for him to finish his sentence.

  ❦

  Luckily for Grizz, they only had to make minor changes to the script and costumes. Grizz ended up turning the jacket she was making for Peter’s character into a vest and gave him a button-down shirt, and it turned out that the dress for Natalia’s character, Adeline, didn’t need any changes. With the addition of Kurt’s cowboy hats and boots, the costumes were finished and looked great.

  In fact, as time went on, everyone in the play noticed that Kurt had begun to actually make an effort. During a dress rehearsal, Patricia kept a close eye on Kurt, who was getting better and better at his role. His ghostly moans sounded truly bone-chilling, and he was now competent at waving the chains around without causing bodily harm.

  As he roamed across the stage in his costume, a long black hooded cloak so that the audience would only catch a glimpse of his ghostly presence, he seemed very into his part. “Ohhhhh-ohhhhhhhhh,” he wailed, knocking over a table on cue.

  Patricia grinned to herself. This is going to look so good when it’s all done, she thought in excitement.

  Just then, Kurt dropped his chain and it fell on the stage with a clatter. “Whoops, my bad,” he called out.

  “Kurt,” Patricia reminded him, “remember, never, ever, ever break character. If that happens during the actual show, do not say anything, just quietly pick it up and go back to haunting. People are less likely to notice mistakes if you act like nothing happened. The show must go on!”

  Kurt’s eyes looked a bit glazed as she was talking, but then he nodded and grinned. “You got it, chief.”

  After they were done rehearsing, Patricia held up her hands. “Okay, now we’re going to try that with lighting, so I’m going up to the light booth for this next run-through. Grizz, can you come with me?”

  Once in the light booth, Grizz clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “This is looking so awesome.”

  Patricia grinned, turning a control. “Yeah, your costumes look so good.”

  Grizz gazed off into the distance, looking embarrassed but pleased. “Why, thank you.” Then she sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’m glad Kurt is in our play.” Seeing Patricia’s horrified look, Grizz held up her hands. “No, no, he’s still a tool, but if it hadn’t been for him, people at the festival would’ve seen the big mistake I’d made.”

  Patricia nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s true. And the sets do look really good.” She looked down and saw Ben walk in with a couple pizza boxes. “I guess everything’s working out, huh?” she said with a smile.

  When the rehearsal was over, Grizz and Patricia descended the precarious spiral staircase that led from the lighting booth. Kurt leapt off the stage and rushed over to Patricia. “Dude, Trixie, the lights made it choka!”

  Patricia cocked an eyebrow, emitting a small laugh. “What?”

  Kurt smiled. “Choka. Surf-speak for ‘awesome’.”

  “Ohh.” Patricia nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, thank you.”

  “Hey, everybody!”

  Patricia turned her head to see Ben standing nearby, brandi
shing the pizza boxes. “Dinner is served,” he said with a grin.

  “Actors, please change out of your costumes before you eat, lest you risk my wrath!” Grizz called with an innocent smile on her face. Then she skipped over to Ben, plucking a pepperoni slice from the top box he was holding and taking a large bite. “Mm, delish! Thanks!”

  “Yeah, thanks so much, Ben,” Patricia told him as she joined them.

  “No problem,” Ben said. “There’s pepperoni and,” he shifted the boxes, moving the bottom one to the top of the stack and opening it, “ta-da! Hawaiian.”

  Patricia could feel her mouth water at the sight of the ham and pineapple pizza. “Oh, my favorite! You rock.”

  “The play is looking good. I think you guys are there,” Ben told them, setting down the pizza boxes on a table.

  “I hope so,” Grizz replied, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin from the pack Ben had brought with the pizza, plates, and soda.

  Patricia laughed, setting down her slice. “No, we are good. It’s gonna be choka!” she said with a laugh, making a “hang loose” sign with her left hand.

  ❦

  “Thank you so much, I’m so glad you liked it,” Patricia told her English teacher as he congratulated her after the theater festival. The play had been a success, the applause afterward causing her face to hurt from grinning so much. Now all of those who had participated were lining the hallway, exchanging hugs and congratulations.

  Turning to Grizz, she sighed with relief and said, “I can’t believe it’s over.”

  Grizz grinned and leaned against the wall, folding her hands behind her. “I can’t believe Kurt didn’t trip and knock over the set.”

  Laughing, Patricia smoothed the skirt of her coral-colored dress. “I know! He was actually…”

  “Pretty good?” Grizz supplied grudgingly.

  Patricia nodded, combing her hair with her fingers. “Yeah. I’m glad, though. Could you imagine if he’d—”

  “Don’t say it,” Grizz warned with wide eyes.

  “Ladies!” Mr. Gardner greeted them as he appeared. “Excellent one-act, truly a masterpiece. I must say, you seemed to use Mr. Minola’s time well—the props were superb, and his role…”—Grizz and Patricia side-eyed each other, trying not to snicker—“What an excellent use of the stage. Well done. I think working together has worked out in everyone’s favor,” he surmised, peering keenly at Patricia over his glasses. “Well, I won’t keep you. This is a time to celebrate!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gardner,” Grizz and Patricia said in unison as their teacher walked away.

  “He’s right, things really have worked out,” Grizz said slyly, elbowing Patricia in the ribs.

  Flushing, Patricia bit her lip and elbowed her back.

  “Hey! Watch the sash!” Grizz admonished, referring to the short purple dress with black sash that she’d chosen to wear for the festival, complete with a matching black shrug and clutch.

  “Um, hey.”

  Patricia lifted her head as Kurt approached them. He’d already changed out of his costume and was back in his street clothes of jeans and a polo shirt. I guess this is his way of dressing up, she thought with an eye roll. “Hey, Kurt.”

  Taking in Grizz and Patricia, he said, “You both look amazing.”

  Grizz grinned, putting a hand to her hip and striking a pose. “Don’t we, though?”

  “Um, Patricia?” he began, looking nervous as he shuffled in his sneakers. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Patricia’s eyes widened, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. In all the time she’d known him, he had never once called her by her proper name. “Um, sure.”

  “I’m gonna congratulate Chase on his play,” Grizz said, winking dramatically and trying to conceal her snicker as she passed Patricia.

  Kurt shifted his weight from side to side before saying, “So, I just talked to Mr. Gardner, and he was really impressed with what you’ve told him. He says that this will help my grade a lot. I mean, I still have to finish that paper, but that’ll be a cinch. Um,” he mumbled, scratching his scalp and looking nervous, “what I’m trying to say is, I owe it all to you. Sorry I was being so lame before. You showed me that theater can be really cool. So… how about we go out?”

  Patricia stared at him. “What, like a date?” Was that what Ben had been hinting at that time they were working on the costumes? Did Kurt… did Kurt like her?

  Kurt nodded with a smile. “Yeah, babe. I really want to make it up to you for how much trouble I caused at first.”

  Patricia broke into a smile. “Aw, Kurt, that’s so sweet of you! I accept your apology, but I’m afraid I can’t go out with you. My boyfriend wouldn’t like that.”

  Kurt looked dumbfounded, his jaw dropping slightly. “Your… boyfriend? Dude, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

  Patricia nodded, craning her neck to look around. “Yeah, actually, he should be…”

  “Ready to go?” Ben asked as he walked up to her with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in black pants and a gray button-down shirt.

  “Oh,” Patricia breathed, taking the offered bouquet and cradling it in her arms, “Ben, that’s so sweet!”

  Ben grinned, then turned to Kurt and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good job in the play, bro.”

  Taking Ben’s offered arm, Patricia turned and told Kurt, “Yeah, you did a really great job. We’ve got dinner reservations, so we have to get going, but have a good night!”

  Kurt’s eyes widened in sheer shock. “Wait… what…?”

  “You know, I feel pretty bad for him,” Ben commented as they made their way through the parking lot toward his car. “He seemed so depressed when we left. I guess he must be into you now.”

  As he held open the passenger door for her, Patricia shrugged. “Well, I do feel bad about that, but there’s nothing I can do. Don’t worry, he’ll find someone new soon.”

  Ben laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Patricia grinned. “Why, there’s a lad. Come on and kiss me, Ben.”

  Ben’s face lit up happily, and he did just that.

  Star Walker

  ❦

  ALEX IRWIN

  “The spirit that I have seen

  May be the devil: and the devil hath power

  To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps

  Out of my weakness and my melancholy,

  As he is very potent with such spirits,

  Abuses me to damn me.”

  - HAMLET, THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET

  The outer doors of the spaceship slide open, and for one blinding moment all Letta can see is an enveloping blackness that drinks everything in and leaves nothing behind. She can feel herself being drawn toward it, wanting to slip into that void and float with the stars. Instead, she presses her forehead to the glass separating the main body of the ship from the evacuation chamber. Her gaze is fixed on the small metal box on the floor of the chamber. As she watches, it tips over, and the ashes inside spiral out, sucked into the blackness.

  Her mother’s ashes are stardust now.

  The doors slide together again and the hushed awe that had spread over the funeral party finally cracks. Quiet words slither through as the attendees, mostly first class residents, begin to trickle from the gate toward the main deck for refreshments.

  Someone clears his throat behind Letta and she quickly wipes her eyes on the back of her hand before turning around. The Council of Six waits behind her, all dressed in the white uniform that signifies prestige. The same white uniform that her mother used to wear. Councilperson Pol, an old man with barely-there gray hair and a greenish tinge to his cheeks, steps forward awkwardly. So, the other five have put Pol up to speaking with her, then.

  She lets her eyes slowly rove over each of them, daring them to meet her eyes. They all look at the floor with their hands pressed together as if in prayer. Even C.p. Pol, the mouthpiece of the group, refuses to meet her glare. Letta grimaces with revuls
ion. All these people, these adults, trying to lord authority over her when they can’t even get up the courage to look her in the eyes.

  “C.p. Pol, what can I do for you?” she asks, standing briskly at attention. She needs to appear steady and reliable, but she flinches as her voice comes out foggy, squeezed out of a swollen throat and saturated with tears.

  Pol clears his throat again. It’s a sound that grates on Letta’s nerves.

  “Well, firstly, the council—no, the council and I—would like to offer our sincere condolences about your mother. Captain Leticia Hamilton was truly one of the greatest people on board this fine ship—”

  “‘One of’?” Letta raises an eyebrow and tries not to smirk as Pol tugs nervously on his jacket and glances back at the rest of the council with awkward, stilted movements.

  “Yes, well, there are plenty of great people on board with us here on the Elsinore. Your mother was just one of many, and, uh, one of the best…”

  “The best,” Letta corrects him through clenched teeth. She itches to relax her muscles, but she remains still, keeping her face passive despite the waves of anger and grief that crash within her.

  “In any case, the other matter,” Pol continues, choosing to ignore Letta’s comments, “is that we are afraid we cannot grant your request to take your mother’s place as the captain of the Elsinore.”

  They said no. How could they say no? Formality seems unimportant now. Letta falls back against the glass, her hands curling into fists. She is filled with the hot urge to punch something; but just as suddenly as that need appears, her energy drains from her, and all she wants is to sink to the floor and never get up again.

  “What?” she whispers. She refuses to believe that she was rejected. Her mother had been training her for this, training her to take over once they landed on New Earth. It was all she had done from the day she started school until now. They cannot take this one thing she had left of her mother’s legacy away from her.

  “The council believes that you are just far too young at this point in time. You are only seventeen, Leticia. We just don’t think you have the mental capabilities to care for the ship or prepare the people for landing. Ultimately, at this stage in your life, you do not possess the necessary leadership qualities. Maybe in ten years, once we’ve landed…”