Summer in the City

by Fracaswell Hyman

  I was so glad when the intros were done and Acorn called out, “Take five! We’ll start the read-through when we’re back in.”

  Yes! A chance to escape back to the ladies’ room and talk myself down from my gloomy self-conscious cloud. It wasn’t my fault I was tall, just like it wasn’t Gabriel Faust’s fault that he was, well, shorter than me. I mean, he looked way taller on TV. Maybe there was a way for him to look taller onstage, too. Or could I look shorter? I bent my knees a little bit as I hurried to the restroom. No, that felt weird. Anywho, that wasn’t my problem to worry about. I couldn’t help my height. All I could do was concentrate on being the best Juliet I could be.

  On my way back from the restroom, I passed what seemed like a heated discussion between Bob, Larry and a lady I had never seen before. From her body movements, she seemed powerful and confident to the extreme. She was an African American woman about the same complexion as my mom, curvy to the max, really tall, and wearing a lot of makeup and a bush of pink hair that was styled to look like a chrysanthemum! I almost couldn’t stop staring at her, but then I remembered what that had led to earlier . . . As I passed the intense trio, the powerful lady held her huge hand out in a “stop” gesture and said, “Your needs are not my concern, gentlemen. I’m here to advocate for my client, and that’s that.”

  I tried to linger by the door to hear more, but as soon as I entered the room, Zippy hustled over to me. “Hey, kiddo, where’s my coffee?”

  Oops! “Uh, well, I had a little accident on the way into the building. See, it was knocked out of my hand and—”

  “Oh! You’re the one who baptized Gabe’s ride!”

  “You know about that?”

  “Word travels fast, clumsy.” She laughed. “Talk about getting started on the wrong foot. Well, maybe he’s the forgiving type. I doubt it, but there’s always hope, I guess.” She cocked her head to the side with a yeah right smirk and charged across the room to whisper to a group of chorus members.

  Then Roz came up to me, real close. Flipping her long braids behind her shoulder, she said, “Mango, my child. Is that lipstick you’re wearing today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother lets her twelve-year-old daughter wear makeup?”

  To avoid answering her question with a lie, I said, “Twelve and a half.”

  Roz reached up and touched my Afro puff. “Mm, you have some nice thick hair. You ought to let me braid it for you. Give you some nice pigtails.”

  Her smile broadened as she turned and walked off. What was with this woman? Why was she obsessed with making me look young so she wouldn’t look old?

  Bob, Larry, and the powerful lady came into the room. Bob had Acorn gather the company, and then he made an announcement. “Okay, everyone except Mango is excused for the rest of the day. Be sure to take your scripts with you and spend the extra time getting familiar with your lines and the songs. I promise we’ll have a full company rehearsal soon . . . hopefully tomorrow.”

  Zippy rushed up to Bob. “Do I have to stick around to take Mango home?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bob said. “I’ll see that she gets home safe.”

  “Okay, as long as I still get paid.” Zippy shrugged and walked off. I didn’t know she was getting paid to be my escort, but I guess it made sense. Why else would she go out of her way every day? It wasn’t like we were friends or anything. As a matter of fact, it was very unlikely that we’d ever become friends at all. Maybe once I got used to being in the city, I could travel back and forth on my own. I doubted Mom and Dada would allow that, but . . . you never knew.

  “All right, company. Let’s all clear the space as quickly as possible,” Acorn called out. “I’ll text your call times later this afternoon.”

  There was a lot of chatter as the cast packed their gear and headed out. I noticed Gabriel Faust wasn’t anywhere around. Was he excused for the rest of the day, too? Why was I the only one being held back? Uh-oh! Didn’t they bring TJ in all by himself yesterday when they told him he was being replaced? Was the same thing about to happen to me?

  Bob called me over to the table. “Mango Delight Fuller, I’d like to introduce you to—”

  The powerful lady cut Bob off, jutted her Incredible Hulk hand toward me, and said, “Frances Francisco. Happy to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Gabriel’s manager. I’ve been representing him since his amazing talents revealed themselves when he was in first grade. I’m what you call a star-maker, star-promoter, and star-protector.”

  My hand was dwarfed in hers as we shook. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  She held onto my hand and moved in closer. “I’m curious to see if you live up to the hype these two have built up around you. Piece of advice: lose the 'Fuller.’ Mango Delight is the kind of name people won’t forget, and since it’s your real name, that makes it all the better.” Her phone buzzed and she answered it by tapping the headset in her ear. “Yes? Right. We’re ready now. Bring him up.” She turned back to Bob, Larry, and me. “Excuse me, I’ve got couple of urgent calls to make.” She gave an icy smile that was all teeth and very little warmth and walked to the other side of the room while commanding her phone to dial a number.

  I looked at Bob and Larry, confused. “I know this is kind of weird . . .” Bob started.

  “Kind of?” Larry said, rolling his eyes.

  “Keep your cool, Larry, please.” Bob turned back to me. “It seems Gabriel Faust is a little shy and his manager has requested a private read-through before we include the rest of the cast.”

  I gulped. “So, I’m not getting fired?” Across the room, Frances Francisco let out a whooping laugh that seemed to rattle all the mirrors in the space.

  Bob put a hand on my shoulder. “Fired? Of course not. You’re our Juliet.”

  Larry said, “You are here to stay, no matter what our Romeo and his big-haired minion have to say about it.”

  Bob elbowed him. “Cool it, Larry. She’s probably got the hearing of a bat.”

  The door to the studio opened, and the rude chauffeur entered, looked around the room, then turned back and gave an all-clear signal. Gabriel Faust entered, walked directly across the room, and stood in front of me. As if by magic, he was suddenly about two inches taller and I had to look up at him. He nodded, turned to the rude chauffeur, and gave him a thumbs up.

  I looked down and saw that Gabriel Faust was now wearing a pair of boots with heels and a thick platform that added inches to his height. So that was how they did it in Hollywood!

  Gabriel took off his oversize sunglasses and headed for the table that had been set up with scripts and bottles of water. As soon as he took his seat, Frances Francisco was at his side. “Let’s get started,” she barked. “Gabriel has a recording studio booked until midnight, and we can’t waste a minute.”

  Although this was only my second time doing a play, I was certain this would be the strangest, most uncomfortable read-through of my life, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I was asked to sit directly across from Gabriel Faust. Bob, Mr. Ramsey, Acorn, and Frances Francisco all took seats, and we started the read-through. Acorn read the stage directions, I read Juliet, Gabriel Faust read Romeo, and Bob read all the other parts. Mr. Ramsey, at the piano, played and sang all the songs except mine, which I had to stand and do all alone.

  I surprised myself by how comfortable I was singing in front of Gabriel Faust and his manager. It had been a while since I sang all my solos, but it felt really good, like putting on a favorite coat and finding a dollar I’d forgotten about in the pocket. Gabriel Faust kept his eyes on his script while I sang, but Frances Francisco, who had barely looked up from her phone during the entire read-through, actually glanced up and smiled at me once. I closed my eyes and as I sang, I let the music lift me high above my worries about working with a star who was nothing like I thought he’d be, and being far from home in New York City.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Attack of the 50 Foot Prima!

  Af
ter rehearsal, Bob called a car service and had Acorn escort me back to Aunt Zendaya’s. For the first five minutes of the ride, Acorn was busy on his phone texting call times to the cast and crew. Then, he undid his blonde man bun, shook his shoulder-length hair loose, and smiled at me. “So, how are you doing, Mango?”

  “Um, fine, I guess. I’m not sure.”

  He chuckled. “Since you’re not sure, I’ll take a guess. Is that okay with you?”

  I shrugged.

  He pulled his legs onto the seat criss-cross applesauce style, ran his fingers through his hair, and looked at me very closely. “Let’s see. I have a feeling you are confused and a bit overwhelmed. Being in New York, starring in a play with a famous person, being surrounded by so many adults all day, all of these new things have your head spooling up and down like a yo-yo.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. I feel like a yo-yo spinning up, down, and all around. It’s like someone is doing yo-yo tricks, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

  “Yes. That’s good. Just what you should be feeling.”

  “No, it’s not good! I miss my family. I miss my friends, and my real life. I’m uncomfortable all the time.”

  Acorn leaned closer to me. “Mango, this is your real life. You’ve just stepped out of your comfort zone, and everything around you is new and happening very fast. But that just means one very important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re growing. Growth is never comfortable at first. Like stretching, it can really hurt at first, but the more you do it, the easier it becomes.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “I remember when I first started Girls On Track at school, I used to hate stretching before we ran,” I said. “It was torture. But after a while, stretching started to feel good before and after practice.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. It’s going to be the same with what you’re doing now. Stick with it. Embrace that fact that things are going to be uncomfortable for a while, but one day soon, things will start falling into place and you’ll start to fit in . . . until the next time you step out of your comfort zone.”

  I smiled. “Maybe after this, I’ll just stick closer to home in my own comfort zone.”

  “No, you won’t do that. You’re talented. You have the soul of an artist, Mango. You won’t thrive by staying in comfort.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Tell me, when they offered you the chance to come to New York and star in Yo, Romeo!, did you say no? Were you forced to come?”

  “No. I wanted to come. No one forced me.”

  “Exactly. Your instincts pushed you out of your comfort zone before you even realized it. And now here you are, stretching and growing and learning new things. By the time these six weeks are over, you won’t be the same Mango you were when we started. You’ll be a different Mango”

  I giggled. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Oh, I’m right. Trust. I’m a very intuitive person.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m very good at sensing and understanding what people are feeling. It’s a gift.”

  “Do you understand what Gabriel Faust is feeling? Because I sure don’t.”

  Acorn tilted his head and took a deep breath. “I think he is very afraid and confused right now. That’s why he hides behind those huge sunglasses. He is worried that he may not or cannot be what people expect him to be. That is common for famous people, but it is even more intense for Gabriel Faust because he is so young and has been famous for so long, perhaps too long.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “In a way it is. Just like you, he is stepping out of his comfort zone, except he is afraid that if he fails, he will be letting millions of his fans down. You’re both in the same boat. If you want to grow, Mango, it’s up to you to pick up the oars and row to shore or sit still, spring a leak, and eventually sink.”

  I leaned back on the seat and looked at Acorn. He was so calm and so easy to talk to. I wished he was the one escorting me to and from rehearsals every day. I asked, “Is Acorn your real name?”

  “It is the name I was given when I had no choice, so yes. What about you? Is Mango Delight Fuller your real name or a stage name?”

  “It’s the name I was given when I had no choice.”

  He nodded. “Names are very important. I have a sister named Maple Leaf and a brother named Branch. I am Acorn. I start small but grow into a big tree.” He smiled at me. “You are Mango, a fruit that will ripen to the ultimate sweetness.”

  When we got to Aunt Zendaya’s building, Acorn escorted me all the way up the four flights. Aunt Zendaya was busy making jewelry when we entered the apartment, but she stopped what she was doing as soon as she saw Acorn and came across the room to greet him.

  I made the introductions. “Aunt Zendaya, this is Acorn. Acorn, this is my aunt.”

  Acorn held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Aunt Zendaya smiled. “Likewise. What is your role with the production?”

  “He’s the stage manager,” I said. “He’s in charge of scheduling and telling us when to take breaks and making sure everything is ready for rehearsal.”

  “That’s correct.” Acorn said. “And once rehearsals are done and the director leaves, I run the show.

  Aunt Zendaya invited Acorn to stay for dinner. I gulped when he said yes, a little worried he was going to have to endure a practically flavorless meal. Acorn followed Aunt Z into her tiny kitchen, and I settled in on the futon to text TJ.

  The little dots started pulsing right away. A good sign, I hoped?

  Yes! I was beyond happy. I immediately face2faced Izzy and filled her in on everything that had happened today. She wasn’t as excited as I thought she’d be when I told her about meeting Gabriel Faust. I began to wonder if maybe our friendship wasn’t back on track the way I’d hoped it would be. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah and no,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, you father and Jasper came by this afternoon.”

  Oh, man, I’d completely forgotten to ask her about that! I’d been so caught up in my own things that I hadn’t thought to check in on what was going on with her. I felt like a self-centered jerk. “How did it go?” I asked

  “Well, it started out great. Jasper was so happy to see me, until mi prima, Carmella, came into the room.”

  “Your cousin? When did she arrive?”

  “Late last night. OMGZ, she is the most overbearing, self-centered egomaniac that I’ve ever known! I don’t remember her being this way when we were kids.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  “About six or seven years? And when she leaves, I’ll make sure it’s twenty years before I see her again! Do you know what happened today with Jasper?”

  “No. And I won’t know until you tell me!”

  “Well,” Izzy said with a big sigh. “I was hugging Jasper, and Carmella comes up and snatches him from me and starts hugging him and pinching his cheeks and tickling him. When I took him back, he started crying and reaching his arms to go back to Carmella!”

  “No!”

  “Yes! It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something! I think he thought she was me.”

  “How? That’s not possible.”

  “Well, maybe it is. I guess she kinda sorta looks like me and sounds like me and ugh! She is just so—” Suddenly, Izzy stopped herself. She put a bright smile on her face and said, “Carmella! Hey, girl, what are you up to?”

  I heard another voice from off-screen. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Who are you talking to?”

  Suddenly, a new face appeared on my phone right next to Izzy. I almost did a double take because they looked like they were twins! Same face, same size as far as I could tell, but Carmella was like Izzy 2.0. It was like they were the same picture, but Carmella had double the pixels.

  Carmella took Izzy’s phone and started t
alking to me like Izzy wasn’t even there. “Oh, you must be Mango! Izzy told me so much about you. I hear you’re starring in a show on Broadway.”

  “Well . . . it’s actually way, way off Broadway.”

  “Well, you’re way-way closer to Broadway than Izzy, that’s for sure. Oh, I met your little hermano, Jasper, today. We fell instantly in love with each other. And your father baked such amazing blueberry scones!” She placed a hand over her heart. “Oh! I was amazed by how good they tasted. I forgot all about my allergy to carbs and how I was gonna watch my figure while I’m here this summer. I am not going to let Izzy make me fat!” She laughed loud and long, and I smiled, trying to be polite, wondering what happened to Izzy.

  “Uh, where’d Izzy go?”

  “Oh, she’s right here looking like a grumpy face. So tell me, how is the play going?”

  I didn’t want to be rude, so I was stuck face2facing with Carmella for another ten minutes until she announced she was going to the bathroom. “Here, Izzy, hold the phone. I’ll be right back, Mango!”

  Izzy looked downright miserable when she reappeared on the screen. “See what I mean? Now she’s stealing my best friend. She’s unbearable. And she’s going to be here for the rest of the summer unless I can arrange an alien abduction.”

  “Izzy, I think she’s just trying to be nice.”

  “Yeah, nice like a bulldozer.”

  “I’m sorry you’re not having fun, Izzy. Maybe if you give it some time you two will connect again?”

  “I’d rather swallow golf balls spiked with nails. Uh-oh, here she comes! I gotta get off before she hijacks my phone again. Talk to you later. Bye!”

  Just like that, she hung up. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to her anyway. I had never seen Izzy like this before. She was always so bubbly and confident and outspoken. Now she was the opposite of her usual self in every way. It was as though Carmella had stolen her personality.