Rosethorn

by Ava Zavora

  I could hear by the applause that I had accomplished my goal. And I knew I did really well when Lila, sweet Lila, stood up and asked Mrs. O’Connell how the audience was supposed to believe that an English queen was Chinese and that it would be too much of a distraction for me to play the role. Of course she said all this in her cloying, polite tone that’s supposed to hide the fact that she’s an evil, delusional bitch.

  “First of all, Lila,” I said just as sweetly, “I’m Filipino, not Chinese." And then I turned to Mrs. O’Connell-

  “Second of all, this is musical theater and the audience will have to suspend their disbelief pretty much from beginning to end. It’s just as probable that Guenevere be played by an Asian actress as it is for people to burst out in song about a castle on a hill." Everyone except for Lila laughed at this. And so I turned back to her with my most venomous glance.

  “A good actress will make the audience believe anything she wants them to." And with that, I walked down the stage with queenly dignity.

  I knew I did my best and that it was not only different but a better performance than all the others. Even Lila’s stupidity couldn’t shake the knowledge that I was perfect for the role. I understood who Guenevere was and I knew that I could bring her to life on stage. But still I worried Mrs. O’Connell would not see it that way. I’ve been agonizing these past three days and this afternoon when Miss O’Connell posted the parts, I couldn’t believe it at first. But it’s true. At last-not understudy, not a minor character but the lead in a romantic musical with beautiful songs.

  Lila’s my understudy/Morgan Le Fay (you should have seen the look on her face!), Greg’s King Arthur (you know what I think of his arrogant ass), and one of the swim boys is Lancelot.

  I have the script lying next to this diary, pristine and white, with Camelot in big black letters on the front. It will be my companion for the next three to four months. I can’t wait!

  February 17, 1986

  I haven’t written in awhile-been busy learning all my lines and I’ve got them memorized! Funny how easy that is when you’re the leading lady. I’m in a dream of knights and ladies and castles. I hope I never wake up.

  February 23, 1986

  My parents got my progress report today. Mr. Kearney gave me D in algebra and the rest of my grades have fallen too, except for choir and drama. Papa is livid and actually said that he won’t let me go to the Conservatory this summer like he promised if I don’t bring up my grades to B’s and C’s. Not only that, he won’t let me take drama next year. He might as well have stuck a knife in my heart.

  “How are you going to get into college with grades like these?” He said, clutching the paper tightly in his fist. He refused to be swayed by my tears. Mama tried to calm him down, but only because of his heart. She’s of the same mind as him when it comes to my grades. Don’t they know that I would die without my drama class? They think I'm being melodramatic. But it’s true. I don’t care about math or history—they don’t matter, not to me.

  It’s windy and gray outside. Another storm is coming. I’m looking at my small stack of Playbills from last winter. This dream is what matters. My name, my picture in a Playbill, and a list of plays I’ve done. My destiny is to be in theater and I will pursue this with everything I have.

  My parents regret taking me to New York. They think that this obsession with acting took root the first time I saw a Broadway play. That trip did change everything for me. The pulse and beat of the City, the energy, the quickness, the rush and excitement. I loved it all. I knew, once I stepped off the subway at Times Square, almost blinded by the lights and deafened by the noise, and feeling that I was in the very center of the world, that this was where I belonged.

  After all, all great artists go to New York.

  What my parents don’t know is that I’ve always played parts in private. It wasn’t really playing, but being another person, bringing a character to flesh and blood. I won’t let my parents ruin this for me. I suppose I have to play this game of dutiful daughter and good student. I'm forced to waste my time on inconsequential things when in my heart of hearts, I only want to sing and dance and act.

  I want to have an apartment in Manhattan overlooking Central Park and light up Broadway at night. I want to travel the world and dance across all its stages. Venice, Paris, London. This life is too small to contain me.

  If I could, I would run away like Guenevere into the wood for adventure and not even the King of England himself could get me to return.

  March 1, 1986

  I am finding Guenevere or Jenny as Arthur calls her to be a rich character to play. She goes from this innocent girl, idealistic and romantic, and by the end, she, or I get to be manipulative, tortured, passionately in love, full of guilt, then humbled and sorrowful. It’s not a happy ending. She and Lancelot part forever and Camelot is torn asunder.

  But why does she have to sacrifice herself to convent life? Lancelot just gets to go off to his castle and Arthur fights his battle while she’s punished. Lancelot was part of it too. Why couldn’t they go off together and prove that their love was worth it all? That’s the only way to redeem their shame.

  I talk as if I know about these things, but I truly don’t. I know nothing of loving someone so much that I can't control myself. I hope I never experience a love that would kill a dream and cause as much pain as Lancelot and Guenevere’s.

  March 3, 1986

  Esme and Kay have both told me that they are sick of me talking about the play. I'm so hurt. I didn’t know I was that annoying. They felt bad after telling me. Am I really as self-absorbed as they made me out? Are they just jealous? I mean Esme talks about being second flute as if it was the end all and be all and Kay’s constantly Ted this and Ted that. But my dream finally comes true and all of a sudden I’m a prima donna?

  I guess I’m obsessed with it. But they don’t understand—this is my whole life.

  I feel so isolated sometimes. Even in happiness, I'm separate from everybody else. No one knows me, not even my friends.

  March 5, 1986

  I'm so frustrated with rehearsals right now. We must have the worst Lancelot that ever was. I don’t know why Mrs. O’Connell chose him. He looks the role - all the swim boys do. And he can hold a tune. But he's wooden and completely self-conscious.

  I don’t even know why he tried out for this part. Last semester the swim boys just did stage sets and background. I thought all they cared about was keeping up their grade point average and that’s why they’re taking drama. Samantha told me it was either one of them or Evan as Lancelot---Evan couldn’t pull off a brave knight even if he was covered from head to toe in silver armor.

  I utterly detest Greg-it's taking all of my acting skills to pretend to respect and adore him as King Arthur, but at least he can act and doesn’t stammer out his lines. But this swim boy keeps breaking my concentration—I've never seen anybody more terrified. He seems decent in all his other scenes but when it comes to ours, he just starts shaking and he’s stepped on me so many times I’m surprised I have any feeling left in my toes. It's very, very hard to act enamored of him. If the real Lancelot had been this red-faced and clumsy, the Round Table would still be around today.

  He’s a wrong note that keeps playing in an otherwise perfect score. He will ruin–is ruining-the entire play.

  March 8, 1986

  Well, it has all come to a head. I couldn’t stand it any longer and had to complain to Mrs. O’Connell. I’ve held my tongue for weeks now but today I just had to say something to her. I know she knows how bad he is. I would rather be serenaded and made pretend love to by girly Evan than have to suffer another excruciating rehearsal with that swim boy.

  I told her that he needed a lot of help, too much help and that he was all wrong for the part. She agreed with me about his performance so far but refused to cast someone else. She then told me that he's actually asked her for extra help and wants more rehearsal time. She asked me if I would rehearse with him after school
.

  What could I say? No? So I guess we’re rehearsing together after school. Only I have to wait after his swim practice. Not only am I supposed to help transform him into Lancelot but now I have to work around HIS schedule?! Unbelievable. At least he recognizes that he’s terrible.

  Only about a month before our debut. There’s no way he’s going to get any better.

  March 9, 1986

  Yes, it really is as bad as I dreaded. The swim boy-I suppose I should call him by his name-Daniel-is a mess. Our first after school rehearsal was a disaster. I guess I can’t hide how utterly frustrated I am. He says he knows all his lines but when I try to run them with him he opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He has no timing, no personality, and delivers all his lines with monotony.

  I do feel sorry for him. I can tell that he really wants to please. And he seems so grateful that I would practice with him. I know he’s not a theater junkie like the rest of us. He’s a puzzle, a fish out of water. I asked him why in the world he tried out for Lancelot when he’s so uncomfortable and he just gave me this look as if he didn’t know either.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he should have stayed in the background like the rest of the swim boys.

  March 11, 1986

  Okay, I tried something different with Daniel last night. We didn’t run any lines at all and I just sat and talked with him. I noticed that he seemed his worst-forgetting his lines, red-faced, clumsy-in his scenes with me so I figured if he was more relaxed around me, he would do better.

  He needed only a little prompting to start talking about himself-about how swimming and water polo are his whole life, and how he’s come close to beating the school record for the butterfly, about his car, his family. In talking about himself, he became looser, more confident, especially when he talked about something he was really good at, like swimming.

  I asked him to explain water polo, which is like football in the water or something. I noticed that energy flowed from him when he talked about sports and he seemed more like a knight then-strong, confident, and brave. And he’s not bad looking. He’s built more like a football player than what I would think of as a swimmer.

  So then I told Daniel to think of Lancelot as the best water polo player ever, actually the best in everything, the ultimate athlete. I told him that Lancelot was dedicated to being the best knight that ever lived and used the same kind of concentration that he used when in a game or a swim trial, only that was Lancelot’s whole life, every waking moment. Daniel seemed to understand when I put it that way.

  I just have to get him to channel his confidence in sports into the role. I sense that he is very insecure. And there is something fragile about him, despite his size. I will have to treat him more gently and not be so impatient.

  March 24, 1986

  Been working hard with Daniel and I can’t believe his progress. Instead of Rise of a Star-I should title my journal Story of a Miracle Worker. Daniel is turning out to be a decent Lancelot. He has nailed down C’est Moi perfectly-confident with a touch of arrogance but so earnest and convinced of his purpose that he’s doesn’t come off as a complete jackass. There’s been a zest in him lately that when he bounds on stage and sings that song, he's almost endearing.

  We’ve been working on If Ever I would Leave You, which is my favorite song in the whole play. I'm jealous that he gets to sing it and not me. I’ve been encouraging him to let himself go with the same abandon as he does when he sings C’est Moi.

  It doesn’t help that he’s never had a girlfriend. I tried to get him to talk about girls, but he actually blushes. I think he might be gay. He’s so fastidious and neat and he’s more at ease when he’s hanging out with the other swim boys. And then there’s this interest in musical theater.

  Working with Daniel has somehow made me understand the true theme of Camelot. It’s really about how you have to step outside of yourself, isn’t it? Guenevere and Lancelot are both versions of self-absorption, even when they’re in love with each other-it’s all about them and how they feel, whereas Arthur, even when his heart is breaking over their betrayal, doesn’t give into his anger because he loves them both too much and because he wants to keep his dream alive.

  Is all-consuming love selfish? Does it bring ruin to everything pure and good?

  I’m glad that I’m helping Daniel. Seeing him blossom brings me satisfaction. Reading my prior entries I guess I sound very egotistical and harsh. I have to learn to step outside of myself more.

  March 25, 1986

  Daniel’s tutoring me in math in return for the extra rehearsals. I told him about Papa’s threats and he offered, just like that.

  We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately and we’ve become close in a way. He’s very easy to talk to, if not exactly deep. He’s very nice and listens to me. Ever since Esme and Kay slammed me, I’ve purposely kept quiet about the play, which means we have very little to talk about. The play is my whole life, but they’re my only friends so I’ve been silent.

  The other day I started talking to him about courtly love and although he was very attentive, he still didn’t really get it. He's trying so hard to understand his role and to do well.

  He asked me when I think Lancelot actually fell in love with Guenevere, whether it was the same time she fell in love with him, which was when he performed the miracle, or the first moment he saw her? I was surprised that he actually thought about it-it means he’s really digging into the role.

  And he made the observation that he would have to play Lancelot differently in each case. I asked him why. He said if Lancelot loved Guenevere from the first moment, then he would be suffering the whole time she despised him. I had to agree. I asked him what he thought and he said that he thinks Lancelot had always loved Guenevere and was just waiting for the day when she would look his way without mocking him.

  He can be unexpectedly insightful like that. I feel ashamed when I think about how I talked about him to Mrs. O’Connell. I’m a hypocrite. I rant against Lila when she dismisses my talent because I’m not white. Then I turn around and dismiss Daniel because he’s a swim boy and has never done theater. All he needed was help.

  I encourage him as much as I can. Yesterday, I got so excited that I had to stop him and tell him that he was doing really well, that he had the right combination of misery and lovelorn look when he tells Guenevere that he loves her. He was actually embarrassed. And he’s stopped stepping on my feet. There’s hope.

  One more week until full dress rehearsals! I'm almost finished with my last costume. This role is such a dream to play. I spend half my time running lines and singing and the other half sewing these gorgeous gowns. My favorite is the May dress-it’s rose-colored and when I put it on, it feels like spring.

  March 27, 1986

  I got a B in my last math test and brought up my grade to passing! Now, I just have to keep it up for the rest of the semester and find a way to wow Mr. Lester with my history project. I must take the Conservatory classes this summer. There’s no question about it. Imagine hours of nothing but theater, music, and dance with other teenagers like me. Heaven.

  I hugged Daniel so hard, he was red in the face. I think he’s unused to being hugged by girls. He’s helped me out in such a tremendous way. And he’s rooting for me to go to the Conservatory too. He wants to help me with the History project, even though that’s not his forte. He’s going to call his brother at UCLA and ask him for ideas. He’s a true friend.

  March 31, 1986

  We’ve run through the entire play from beginning to end in full dress and with stage sets. I'm in near bliss. There are some kinks to work out. Some of the backdrops are still not quite finished and the knights need to be coordinated a little more when they joust, but otherwise, everything seems to be shaping up.

  Being in costume with the sets and everything has helped my performance. I feel transported, no longer Stella, but Guenevere.

  And everyone has been amazed at Daniel’s transf
ormation. I couldn’t help but be proud. When he walked onto the stage in silver armor, all the girls were dazzled. Even Lila looked suddenly interested in him. I think Greg should be worried. Daniel has become Lancelot before our very eyes, dashing, brave, handsome, the very picture of the perfect knight. He has his performance almost nailed, just minor glitches here and there, like when he accidentally said, “Stella, I love you,” instead of Jenny. Everyone laughed then and Daniel just lost all confidence. I gave him a wink to let him know it’s okay to mess up. That’s what rehearsal is for after all.

  I think that theater’s gotten into his blood. He's different when he’s on stage. He even told me that he forgets everything that’s bugging him when he’s Lancelot. I told him I knew how he felt—that for those brief hours I’m on stage this whole other world exists fully and everything else disappears.

  He confessed that he’s nervous about being in front of a real audience and that all that’s keeping him from running away is the fact that I’ll be there with him. I promised him that he will be a magnificent Lancelot and that he didn’t need me at all.

  One week until opening night!

  April 9, 1986

  Has there ever been a more magical night such as this? There are no words to adequately describe how I feel-all eyes on me watching me move, every breath suspended and hanging on my every word, turning this way and that, lights brightly upon me, bringing Guenevere to life before them and creating Camelot from music and imagery, casting a spell so fine and beautiful that they believe everything I conjure. And when I sang my songs tonight, it’s as if I’ve never sung them before and that they just existed for me to sing right at that moment.