by J. C. Eaton
Those side curtains would make the perfect hideout. Especially for someone dressed in black, who knew how to slip behind the stage unnoticed and exit the same way.
Standing still wasn’t going to solve anything, so I picked a direction and walked straight ahead, my arms outstretched. The worst thing that could happen was I’d bump into a wall. So what? Next thing I knew, my hands touched something smooth and metallic. The chemical cabinet. It was on the same side of the room as the stairs. All I had to do was press the palm of my hand against the wall and move forward. One step at a time.
I could feel the grit on the soles of my feet and tried not to think about it. I kept moving. It wasn’t too late. I wasn’t too late. The audience was still applauding. Just then a hazy flash of light illuminated the stairs. Someone was opening the door.
“Ain’t no one down here, Shirley. Place is dark. Want to see for yourself?”
It was Wayne’s voice. I yelled up to him, but the only sounds that came out of my mouth were small, croaking ones.
“Lordy, no. I’m not going near that basement. You take another look.”
“I did. There’s no one down there.”
I tried yelling again, but it was as if someone had cut my vocal cords. Instead, I made a fist and pounded on the staircase railing. The metal echoed like nobody’s business and caught Wayne’s attention.
“Who’s down there?”
He opened the door all the way and flipped on the lights.
“Phee! What are you doing in the dark? Hey, are you hurt?”
My voice was barely audible as I reached the top of the stairs. I practically forced myself to speak louder.
“Ellowina’s got a gun. She’s going to kill Sue Ellen.”
“I’ll get the houselights on!”
“No. She’s backstage. Turn the stage lights off and keep the curtain closed.”
Wayne raced to the light panel as Shirley started screaming, “Lord preserve us now!”
The cast must have taken its final bow because the audience began yelling, “Encore! Encore!”
I kept telling myself over and over again no one shot blindly in the dark. No rational person anyway, and Ellowina was pretty darn rational. As I stared at the backdrop curtain, I tried to figure out which wing she was in. Both were close enough to the basement door, but only one was near the outside exit by the garbage bins. That had to be Ellowina’s escape route.
She was on stage left and armed. I wasn’t sure how long we’d be able to keep the stage and the players in darkness as the audience clamored for an encore. Seasoned actors knew that when the lights were out on stage, they needed to stay perfectly still. But this was a community theater, and who the hell knew what any of them could be thinking.
My throat felt as if someone had ripped out the vocal cords. The only good news was the pain in my gut was subsiding in proportion to the adrenaline surging through my body. I took a step forward when someone spun me around by the shoulders. It was Cliff Edwards, the director.
“What are you doing on the stage? Behind the actors, no less?”
Small gurgling sounds emanated from the back of my mouth, barely above a whisper. “Ellowina Bice is behind those side curtains over there waiting to fire a shot at Sue Ellen. Does that answer your question?”
Cliff immediately started yelling, “All of you. Exit stage right. No open curtain. Exit stage right. Follow the glow tape. HURRY!”
Unfortunately, the players weren’t so easily convinced, and it was total pandemonium with everyone shouting at once.
“THE AUDIENCE WANTS ANOTHER CURTAIN CALL!”
“I INTEND TO TAKE ANOTHER BOW!”
“THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS! WHO CLOSES THE CURTAINS ON THE CAST?”
“WILL SOMEONE OPEN THOSE CURTAINS?”
“ENCORE! GIVE THEM AN ENCORE!”
The next voice I heard was Marshall’s, and it resounded like a cannon as he stormed across the stage, ushering everyone out of there.
Then Cliff continued to yell, “Exit stage right! NOW! All of you into the greenroom and don’t say a word.”
People pushed. People shoved. People grumbled. But at least they left the stage. All but one—my mother.
“Phee! Why are you on the stage? What’s going on? What’s the big rush to get us off the stage? The audience loved us.”
“It’s just a precaution,” I lied. “I’ll talk to you in the greenroom. I need to see Marshall for a minute.”
“Fine, fine. This better not happen tomorrow night.” My mother tromped off the stage muttering and spewing, unaware of her proximity to Ellowina and oblivious to the fact that her daughter was standing barefoot on a filthy stage.
The side curtains were on guiding tracks and when drawn together created folds that were easy to hide between. Other than the glow tape, the only other light on the stage came from the foyer. It was enough for the cast to make their move, but apparently not enough to see where Ellowina had placed herself.
“Sorry, Phee,” Marshall whispered. “I should have been here.”
“It wasn’t your fault. At least you didn’t miss the finale.”
Wayne was a few feet away from us at the light board. There was no need for him to shout in order to be heard. “Hey. We’ve got to turn the houselights on and let the audience out. Show’s over. Can’t keep them in the dark. Richard called nine-one-one from his cell phone and skirted out one of the back exits. He overheard everything from where he was standing. He’s going to head back to the auditorium from the main entrance to prevent anyone from going backstage. I’m turning on those houselights now.”
Marshall’s voice was surprisingly calm. “Understood. Do it.”
He tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to stage right. “Go into the greenroom. It’s not safe for you here. And by the way, where’s that deputy sheriff on duty?”
“At a traffic accident on Grand and the 303. Must be a bad one.”
“Aargh. Glad I didn’t take that route. Okay, okay, get going. Any crew members you see, get them into the greenroom.”
Cliff must have already spread the word when he evacuated the cast because there was no one in the foyer backstage or down the corridor. The only other crew members were on the catwalk and would probably hang around up there until everyone had left the theater.
I crossed the stage and walked past the side curtains, same as everyone else did. Only everyone else didn’t get grabbed by the neck. Strong fingers pressed into my flesh, and I froze.
“Don’t you dare make a sound,” Ellowina hissed. “This gun’s got a full magazine.”
With a hand around the front of my neck and a cold metal cylinder pressing against my temple, I couldn’t have made a sound if I wanted to. I stood absolutely still. The lingering scent of sweet chloroform was impossible to ignore. It must have gotten onto Ellowina’s hand when she held that cloth. I tried not to inhale.
Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “If you don’t want to join Miranda, you’ll do as I say. Walk directly into the corridor and open the greenroom door. If it’s locked, knock and tell them who you are. Tell them everything is okay. When they open the door, tell Sue Ellen the sheriff’s deputy is outside and needs to speak with her. Do you understand?”
“Uh-huh.”
“My gun will be aimed directly at you once you start walking. Don’t try anything stupid.”
I could hear the audience emptying out of the auditorium. A cacophony of voices and shuffling feet.
“Stand still,” Ellowina said. “We’ve got plenty of time while the audience leaves.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I stood there for what seemed like hours. Finally, the noises dissipated from the auditorium and Ellowina gave me a slight shove. At least the gun wasn’t about to go off on the side of my head.
I figured Marshall would hear me if I screamed, but I was afraid Ellowina would have a knee-jerk reaction and shoot me. I kept quiet. The stage was dark, but the dim light in the hallway, along with the glo
w tape, was enough for me to make my way over to the greenroom. Ellowina wasn’t taking any chances. She had the gun pressed against me as we navigated through the tight maze of side curtains. Only Marshall remained on the stage as far as I knew.
I heard his footsteps but they sounded as if he was moving in the opposite direction from me. To the corridor maybe? That was where one of the light panels was located. It didn’t matter. Even if he was two feet away, it might as well have been the Atlantic Ocean. There was nothing I could do. As far as he was concerned, I was already out of there and in the greenroom.
Just then, my foot stepped on some sort of strap, and the next thing I knew, a metal pole was leaning against my leg. One of the poles from Randolph’s skis. Someone had left that prop against a wall, upside down no less, and it got jostled when I stepped on the hand strap. If I had been walking any faster, it would have fallen. I wasted no time grabbing it, trying to figure out how far up the metal point was.
When I was fairly certain I had a good grip, I took a breath, leaned back, and plunged the tip of the ski pole into Ellowina’s thigh. It was enough to catch her off guard. The gun dropped to the floor, and I kept poking that pole into her. My scream was probably heard in four counties.
“HELP! MARSHALL!”
Another voice followed.
“LIGHTS UP!”
It was Wayne’s voice and, in an instant, the stage lights came on. Ellowina’s gun was a few feet from me, and I tried to nudge it with my bare foot. Like a madwoman, she gave me a push and lunged for it, but, instead of grabbing the gun, she inadvertently yanked on the side curtain. The very curtain Wayne had warned me to keep my hands off. Something about loose grommets.
Suddenly I was on the floor, suffocating under a dusty velvet blanket.
Ellowina’s not going to kill me. The damn dust mites are. I couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time they cleaned that thing.
I was so busy trying to get out from under the weight of the curtain that I momentarily forgot Ellowina was trapped in there with me. She, unfortunately, didn’t forget, and began to kick at me with all of her strength. I kicked back. Each thrust tore my sheath dress a bit more. Of all nights to wear something formfitting.
She had another advantage, too. Her shoes were heavy suckers, and my ankles were getting the worst of it. I was about to do the one thing that my mother never would have condoned while I was growing up—pull her hair.
What the hell, Mom. It’s my only chance.
As my fingers wrapped themselves around Ellowina’s closely cropped hair, someone else’s hands brushed against me. I figured it had to be Marshall trying to get hold of Ellowina. He and Wayne had managed to pull the curtain off of me and that crazy director. In the blink of an eye, Marshall had one arm around Ellowina’s waist and the other holding his service revolver to her side.
I got up on my elbows and started to hyperventilate. My dress was in shreds, my body bruised, and my face covered in dirt and dust. So much for trying to impress a guy.
Marshall didn’t say a word as I struggled to stand up. He was still holding Ellowina by the waist and pointing his weapon at her.
“I found a spool of wire if you need to tie her up,” Wayne said. “Got a hammer, too.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Marshall turned to Ellowina. “Will it?”
Then he looked at Wayne. “Open the front curtain. Those deputies should be coming in any second.”
“It’s about time!” Bill’s voice reverberated across the empty auditorium. “Best damn scene in the whole play and you had the curtain closed.”
I was still staring at my dress, tears rolling down my cheeks. Worse still, my hair felt as if it had been electrified.
Marshall turned his head from Ellowina and looked at me. “Are you all right, Phee? Did you get hurt? And why are you barefoot? You could have stepped on a nail or something.”
“I . . . I . . . oh, never mind.”
While I was struggling to catch my voice, Bill bellowed from the catwalk, “Hey, you guys! Some broad’s been running all over the place looking for Phee Kimball. Something about a handbag. We told her to go backstage, but that was before all hell broke loose.”
My hands immediately flew to my hair, and all I could feel was frizz. “I, um . . . I guess I’d better go to the greenroom. It doesn’t look like Ellowina’s going anywhere.”
Marshall was standing perfectly still, his gun at her torso. “Tell the cast and crew they need to stay there until the deputies arrive, okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
Lyndy was waving to me from down the hallway as soon as I left the stage.
“Whoa! What happened to you? It looks like you’ve been in a fight with a street gang. Did you fall or something? I’ve been looking all over for you. I figured you ran into Marshall, and the two of you sat in the back of the auditorium for the second act.”
“Don’t I wish. And compared to what happened, the street gang sounds like a walk in the park.”
Lyndy’s mouth dropped when I gave her the details. “Yikes. No wonder you look like hell. Are you all right? Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No, I’m fine. Listen, the deputies are about to arrive, so you’d better hurry before you get caught up in this. I’ll catch you later.”
“Oh gosh. I’d better hustle. My aunt is waiting out front and probably getting twitchy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Oh, and tell your mother it was a great performance.”
Lyndy took off just as the deputies got to the stage. The thudding of their feet on the wooden floor reverberated as I approached the greenroom.
Cliff had had the common sense to lock the door. Unfortunately, no one was about to open it, no matter how hard I pounded. Finally, I took the phone from my bag and dialed my mother’s cell number. I had remembered something about her telling me she kept the phone in the greenroom, “just in case.”
“Phee! Why are you calling me?”
“Because no one will open the door! That’s why. Open the greenroom door! It’s okay.”
In retrospect, I should have been more explicit. I should have said, “Open the greenroom door, but don’t let anyone out.” I didn’t, and what followed was worse than a Black Friday Sale at Best Buy.
Everyone charged out at once. The cast, the crew, and the two cleaning women who knew enough English to hide when they heard someone use the word “killer.” I supposed it was the last time they’d volunteer to clean the theater after a show, even if it meant time and a half.
If there was one thing to be thankful for, it was the fact that this was a relatively small cast. Had it been The Music Man, more than one of us would have been trampled to death.
“Wait! Don’t! Hold up! Wait!” I shouted.
It was futile. I got jostled, tousled, and bumped as the actors raced back on stage, probably hoping to eke out any final bits of applause.
Herb was the worst, nearly knocking me over as he ran downstage. “Sorry, cutie, my fans await.”
What awaited instead was an empty auditorium, with the exception of Ellowina being escorted out by two county deputies. Marshall and another sheriff’s deputy were busy tagging and placing her gun in a Ziploc bag. I got out of Herb’s way as the other actors and crew members filled the stage. Everyone was staring at Ellowina’s silhouette as the house lights dimmed.
Next thing I knew, Paula let out a shout and charged down the side steps, running toward the deputies. I wasn’t sure if she was screaming, “Why, why, why” or “Die, die, die,” but it didn’t matter. Within seconds, she jumped on top of Ellowina and pounded her. Paula was flailing her arms as one of the deputies tried to stop her.
It wasn’t going to work. Even with her hands tied, Ellowina still managed to kick everyone in sight. She was so forceful she nearly knocked over one of the deputies. Above us, Bill and Kevin laughed hysterically.
“Hey, down there! No one told Kevin and me there was a third act!”
“Phee!” It was my mother’s voice
directly behind me. “Were you alone on stage with that crazy woman?”
“Um . . . er . . . which one?”
“Well, not Paula. Ellowina. Who do you think? The deputies are arresting Ellowina. Why didn’t you tell me ahead of time? You left your poor mother on stage like a sitting duck with a homicidal maniac lurking around.”
“She isn’t . . . I mean, I didn’t . . .”
I was so preoccupied arguing with my mother that I barely realized Marshall had joined the melee. He had Paula by the waist and was dragging her away from Ellowina and the deputies.
Behind me Sue Ellen was crying. Not soft, simpering cries but loud, nasal sobs that, for some inexplicable reason, made Bill and Kevin erupt in more raucous laughter.
“It’s not funny, you two!” Myrna shouted.
“Sure is from here,” was the reply.
Chapter 30
It took the better part of an hour to get everyone calmed down.
Sue Ellen wouldn’t stop crying, and Paula kept yelling at Marshall, “You have a gun. Why didn’t you use it?”
Good thing I wasn’t the one with the gun, or I might have bopped it over her head.
Since the three deputies had left with Ellowina, it was up to Marshall and me to break the news that the original director was the one who had murdered Miranda and planned to kill Sue Ellen at the end of act two. But the hardest part was getting everyone to sit down in front.
“Wayne,” I shouted. “Can you turn up the houselights?”
“We just turned them off.”
“Well, turn them on again. Marshall and I need to speak with everyone, and we need some light.”
One by one, the actors and stage crew moved to the front seats.
About the same time my mother noticed I was barefoot. “Where are your shoes, Phee? Why are you walking around barefoot? You could step on something. Worse yet, you could pick up a fungus from these floors. Who the heck knows the last time they were cleaned.”
“A foot fungus is the last thing I’m worried about now. And my shoes are in the basement.”
