Romance in the Rain

by Anthology

I delayed as long as I could, making sure all of the actors were offstage and out of sight. Rodney and Lisa seemed to have the same idea, for they sat in uncharacteristic silence for several minutes before following me out of the booth. They were unusually reserved, likely also pondering their fate, as we walked down to the front and took our seats in the second row. I slouched down as far as I could, disappearing into my black raincoat. I pictured Ellis standing on the stage, frowning at me—the girl that screwed up—and then walking offstage, his back to me and shaking his head in disbelief. And I wouldn’t blame him.

  Douglas wore a plaid vest over a white shirt and baggy, brown corduroy trousers. His heavy eyelids lent his face a perpetually calm, sleepy appearance, like a disinterested college professor. But all five foot two inches of Jeanette rumbled with fury. Her fists were balled up and she teetered back and forth on her black leather shoes, as if eager to pounce. I didn’t know if her brunette hair was awry because she’d worn a headset the last two hours or if she’d been pulling at it in frustration. Absentmindedly I tugged at my own hair, knowing that it was glowing a brilliant red under the auditorium lights. It was unlikely I could hide anywhere on the planet, absent an oversized black hat.

  The stage manager pinched her lips so tightly they were nearly in spasms, like a pink flesh volcano ready to blow. And erupt she did.

  We were irresponsible. We were immature. And we were something unintelligible, because I began to tune Jeanette out.

  There was someone more interesting behind her.

  Gerald lounged on one of the dining room chairs from the final scene, silently picking at his fingernails while Jeanette exhausted herself, blasting us undergraduate novices with a brutal tirade.

  “Excuse me,” Douglas interrupted. “I think we should cut them some slack. After all, this is their first stage production.”

  “I don’t…” Jeanette began to protest. Then her face brightened into a perky smile.

  Surprised by the changeling that swapped its soul for our stage manager, I followed her gaze toward two blonde women and a man standing just inside the curtains at the back of the aisle. It didn’t take much intelligence to guess they must be Jeanette’s guests, who were likely tired of waiting for her in the lobby.

  Or maybe they just wanted to know what the ranting and raving was about in the auditorium.

  “Be just a minute,” she chirped to her friends. “I’m almost done here. I’ll meet you outside for a smoke.”

  Boy, could she put on a great act herself.

  Thank goodness she was almost done.

  However, her guests must have been tired because they responded by seating themselves in the back row.

  “I can guarantee they’ll do a bang up job tomorrow night,” Douglas said, pulling off his John Lennon circular eyeglasses and wiping them with his shirttail. “Besides, it gave the actors some practice at handling a stage disaster. They did a great job of improvising and covering for Kara’s mistake.”

  I flinched at the word disaster and my name linked together.

  Gerald pulled himself away from the fascinating examination of his fingernails to grin at me. Suddenly he wasn’t so handsome. If Ellis had been sitting there and not Gerald, listening to Jeanette rant and rave at me, would he have interrupted and defended a scared beginner?

  He likely would.

  I wished I had Grandma Caldwell’s moxie to defend myself and not sit there passively, hoping that some guy would defend me.

  Douglas interrupted my dismal thoughts. “I’ll bet no one knew there wasn’t supposed to be classical music playing after the murder.”

  He winked at me. I suddenly felt a lot better.

  Jeanette voiced some final exhortations and fled the auditorium, like a humming bird searching for sugar water.

  I wasn’t sure how I was feeling, my emotions one swirling jumble of humiliation and relief and self-pity. After gathering up my raingear, I was surprised to turn around and find Gerald standing in the aisle, blocking my retreat.

  Lisa hovered just behind him, as if eager to engage his attention.

  He ignored her. Was he being intentionally rude or didn’t he realize she was there? It was late, I was tired and my ego was bruised: I wasn’t feeling very charitable at that moment.

  “That was brutal.” Gerald laid a hand on my shoulder.

  I suppose he meant it to be comforting. I waited for him to say something else a bit more reassuring, offer to walk me home or just get out of my way.

  “Just think how exciting tomorrow night is going to be,” Gerald said. “We’ll all be waiting with baited breath during the final scene: Will it be thunder or classical music tonight?” He laughed good-naturedly.

  Well, I had achieved my goal, hadn’t I? I got Gerald’s attention.

  But I wasn’t sure what he thought about me. Was I just a joke to him? Or was he just as inept at flirting as I was.

  Yet, he didn’t impress me as being particularly shy.

  Maybe I was barking up the wrong tree after all.

  “Excuse me,” I said, pushing by him.

  Behind me I heard Lisa giggling something to Gerald as I hurried up the aisle.

  Rain thrashed at me while I struggled to pull on my raincoat. Thunder rolled across the black sky. A blast of wind knocked my rain hat off into a puddle. Miffed, I kicked at it and left it lying on the cement. Raindrops freely mixed with tears as I bolted uphill.

  I wondered what Ellis thought, playing dead on the stage, while concert music roared into the auditorium instead of thunder. Did he think I was incompetent? Couldn’t handle two sound reels? The tears began flowing even harder. Surely he would want nothing to do with me now, after embarrassing him and the entire cast that evening.

  Between sobs I heard the rattling of a bike chain.

  I turned around.

  There was Ellis on his red bicycle, peddling uphill after me.

  I stopped, surreptitiously wiping the tears from my face. Silly, because my bangs were plastered against my forehead and my face was soaked from rain. Maybe Ellis didn’t want to avoid me after all?

  “I’d offer you my baseball cap but I think you’d prefer wearing this.” His voice lacked its usual good-natured cheer. I was surprised when he handed me my rain hat. Did he see me kick at it like a petulant little girl? My stomach sank. I felt more embarrassed at that moment than when I had left everyone standing on the stage, listening to concert music boom through the loudspeakers instead of cannon fire.

  Ellis hopped off his bike and began pushing it alongside me.

  He was acting considerate but he was also frowning, his expression dark.

  We fell into an uncomfortable silence, both of us staring toward our feet as we sloshed through the puddles, keeping our faces turned away from the rain. I wondered what Ellis was thinking.

  It was weird, walking beside a guy in the dark in total silence.

  A block from the dorm, I ventured an exploratory remark.

  “Did the padding protect your shoulder tonight?”

  “I was hurt a bit, but I’ll recover.”

  Was he angry with me or upset at Peter for his lack of control?

  I wanted to close the breach between us. “I’m sorry I embarrassed everybody on stage tonight. I… I was distracted by the arguing over the headsets.”

  “Wasn’t embarrassed. I was already dead.”

  Which was a funny remark, but I didn’t laugh. Instead, my stomach knotted up with agitation at the curt tone of his voice. We trudged along in uneasy silence. The rain pelted the sidewalk. My sneakers were soaked.

  “Very considerate of you to make sure I got back to the dorm safely,” I said tentatively.

  He mumbled something.

  We turned onto the sidewalk in front of Lander. Eager to repair whatever wound I had inflicted, I said, while staring at my waterlogged shoes slogging along on the wet sidewalk, “You know, I would like to go out with you. That is, if you haven’t changed your mind.”

  When I mustere
d the nerve to look back at him, he had stopped walking alongside his bike, as if stunned.

  “I was just acting, Kara.” He glowered at me, his brows pulled together in anger. “That’s what actors do. We pretend. I’m not really interested in going out with you.”

  He clambered back onto his bike and peddled off, leaving me standing there in the rain alone.

  Scene 5

  It was the worst night of my life.

  I wanted to run to my room and hide beneath my bedcovers, but found “Keep Out” posted on the door again.

  That did it! I was exhausted and not in the mood to be denied my own bed in the middle of the night.

  “Mary Jane, open up right now!” I banged on the door with both fists.

  The boyfriend yelled something obscene. No surprise. The guy was a real class act. I kicked at the door. Amazing how resilient it was.

  Yeah, I lost it for a moment there.

  Several doors opened up down the hall and, like prairie dogs popping out of their holes, sleepy eyes peered out at me.

  “You on drugs or something!” Enrico yelled from room eighteen.

  Several others mirrored his comments, but Dennis in room twenty-two called out an invitation. “I’ve got plenty of room in here, Kara. Come on in!”

  Moments later I was delighted to find the boyfriend leading Mary out the door by one hand while grasping his blue T-shirt with the other.

  So, Ellis, it was all an act was it? I ripped off my rain hat and threw it into the corner of the room. All men are jerks! I fumbled with the belt on my black coat: It didn’t want to come unbuckled. I thrashed frantically at the buckle till it unhitched and threw my expensive London Fog coat to the rug.

  Not satisfying. I still felt the urge to tear at something. Destroy something. Vent my frustration because I couldn’t take it out on the real cause of my pain—Ellis.

  At least Ellis let you know what a… a… well, jerk, he was before you got emotionally involved with him.

  Fifteen minutes later, after taking a steamy, hot shower, I was comfortably ensconced in my plush pink robe.

  What had I done to make Ellis so angry?

  The best revenge was not to let Ellis think I cared.

  Even if I did.

  Friday morning I implemented Phase One of the “I don’t care what Ellis thinks plan”: In Scene Design class, find the row Ellis is sitting in, push my way by him, and plant myself a few seats away, blatantly ignoring him.

  No, that’s too immature.

  I spotted him in the sixth row and sat next to Dana, two rows in front of him.

  “So,” Dana prompted, leaning in and tugging at my sleeve. “It seems you prefer my company to the blonde cutie behind you. Does that mean he’s fair game?”

  My stomach lurched a little. “I, uh… haven’t made my mind up yet.”

  Dana laughed, patting me on the arm and sitting back in her chair. “Better make your mind up soon or some pretty gal will make it up for you. Like me.”

  I heard Lisa giggling behind me. I resisted turning around to note who was sitting next to Ellis.

  Phase Two of the “I don’t care what Ellis thinks plan”: Breeze by his row without catching his eye. I didn’t believe it was just an act when he was showing a romantic interest in me. Did I upset him when I didn’t accept his offer to dinner? Maybe he was more sensitive than I gave him credit for. Or maybe he just had an oversized actor’s ego and didn’t like being rejected.

  But he didn’t come off as an egomaniac.

  Phase Three: Head straight to my room and keep myself preoccupied, selecting a soliloquy for my Beginning Acting class from my pile of books obtained from the library. Happy not to find a sign taped to the door. Perhaps roommate learned she is living with a crazy woman and had better mend her ways. Room is blissfully quiet.

  “Had a rough night?” I overheard Douglas ask just as I was entering the production booth to once again mimic a sardine. Curious, I turned to catch Ellis exiting the lobby into the auditorium.

  Was Douglas speaking to Ellis about the murder scene last night? I glanced about, spotting only the two guys setting up the concession stand.

  “You nervous?” Lisa asked as I took my stool. “First performance we’ve got a paying audience.”

  Nothing was going to bother me tonight. A pastel green blouse set off by a pearl necklace and matching earrings nicely highlighted my hair, complimented with a tight-fitting pair of white checked wool pants. I was looking hot and knew it.

  But would anybody care but me?

  “This’ll be fun.” Rodney slipped on his headset. “For the next few nights we’ll be watching with bated breath, wondering if Kara is going to screw up the sound, playing classical music instead of thunder, and whether Peter’s going to send Ellis to the hospital. Third act can’t get better than that.”

  “Don’t forget the Sunday matinee too,” Lisa added and giggled inanely.

  Their words clutched at my abdomen.

  “It’s not funny that someone is getting hurt.” My voice choked. I cleared my throat melodramatically.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Lisa pouted and turned away.

  Apparently Rodney didn’t hear me with his headset on, because he didn’t react.

  Or maybe you’re a jerk too.

  Surprisingly, it was exciting to see the lights go down on a full auditorium. Lisa popped open the door during the first intermission. We overheard several people speaking appreciatively of the high quality of the performers.

  But my beaming pride gradually rolled into rising waves of queasiness. My hand shook when I toggled on the sound to the auditorium for the second intermission and I perspired profusely.

  Dang it. I was getting sick.

  As a result, I focused on Jeanette’s cues instead of what was transpiring on the stage, fearing my increasing nausea would cause me to mess up and entertain Rodney. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally heard Jeanette exclaim with relief, “Show’s over. We didn’t screw up.”

  By that point I didn’t care if the Showboat sprang a leak and sank into Lake Washington. I was feverish, my forehead definitely hot to my touch. Even when the overhead light was turned on, it still seemed shadowy in the booth. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and forget that anybody else existed.

  My “I don’t care what Ellis thinks” plan was a spectacular success. Because when I’m sick, I’m very antisocial. I don’t care what anyone thinks: Just get the heck out of my way and leave me alone.

  Gerald thrust his head into the booth. “There’s a party tonight in the Green Room. Hope to see you there.”

  He winked at us and withdrew his head.

  Yeah, I’ll come to the party to throw up on you.

  “He was definitely winking at me.” Rodney spun around, combing his fingers through his hair. “It’s this lovely red hair of mine.” When he removed his fingers and shook his head, his hair was mussed up like a dust mop struck by lightning. “But you gals can be my arm candy.”

  Lisa gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.

  Rodney’s smile dropped away when he caught my dour expression.

  “You okay, Kara?”

  “I want to puke.” I fumbled with my coat, having difficulty finding the hole to the left sleeve.

  Lisa frowned. “I’ll tell Jeanette you won’t be joining us up front.” She fled the room.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Rodney helped me on with my coat then joined the others. I guess he wasn’t a jerk after all. Maybe I just judged people too quickly.

  Naturally it was pouring buckets of rain as I tramped down the gangplank and onto shore. The uphill walk toward Lander Hall seemed nearly insurmountable, as rivulets of water cascaded along the sidewalk, overflowing the gutters. Water leapt off my rain hat and snaked its way under my coat collar and down my back. I didn’t carry an umbrella because the Northwest wind always bent it backwards: It isn’t worth the effort.

  I fastened the upper bu
ttons of my coat with icy fingers and splashed alone through hundreds of puddles with only my dark thoughts as my companions. Although Ellis seemed to be angry with me, I was still surprised that he hadn’t offered to walk me home. It just didn’t feel right, somehow. I was missing something. But what?

  A waterfall of rain welcomed me at Lander Hall, pouring in a sheet from the porch roof. I was thoroughly drenched when I reached my room, my shoes squishing down the hallway.

  Mary had the good sense to ignore me, leaving me alone in my misery.

  I slept fitfully, dark wings flitting through my dreams just beyond the grasp of my memory when I awoke. I kept butterscotch pudding in the mini-frig in my room and sucked down two for breakfast, then returned to bed. I hadn’t thrown up and was feeling considerably better, but was still too weak to gander about much, so I remained cocooned in my blankets, too weary to read but not quite tired enough to drift back asleep. I was thankful it was Saturday and I didn’t have to worry about missing my classes.

  Mary brought me some cheese pizza from By George for lunch, which I gratefully accepted. I sat on the edge of the bed, listening while she explained her raucous breakup with her boyfriend the night before. Apparently he didn’t appreciate my intrusion and demanded Mary move out or find another roommate. He didn’t want her moving in with him, however—the significance of which was not lost on my roommate.

  “So I guess you’re stuck with me.” Mary sighed, fishing for a compliment.

  “No bother.” Which was the best I could muster up before slipping back beneath the bedcovers.

  A door banging down the hallway woke me up. 6:45! I had to rush to dress. Not much caring what I wore as long as I was warm, I slipped on a grey Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and black jeans with lace edges on the cuffs, and raced down to the theater. I wound my way through the crowd in the lobby, just making it into the production booth when the house lights blinked, notifying the audience to take their seats.

  “Got something to tell you at intermission, Kara,” Lisa announced when I took my seat.