by Clare Hutton
“Relax, you’ll be fine,” Natalia whispered.
Ms. Andrews called up the first Dorothy. She seemed like she knew her lines, but she was talking so quietly that Natalia could barely hear her.
“She’s not going to get it,” she whispered to Zoe. “Make sure you project when it’s your turn, okay?”
“Don’t speak to me,” Zoe whispered back. “I can’t talk or I’m going to freak out.”
Natalia tried to exchange a glance with Caitlin, but Caitlin still had her eyes closed, her lips moving. Patting her sister on the arm, Natalia mimed zipping her lips with her other hand.
Zoe was the fourth girl called up to audition for Dorothy. As she watched her climb up on the stage, Natalia crossed her fingers for good luck.
After a moment, she relaxed. Zoe didn’t need luck. She knew her lines, she was projecting really well, and, most of all, she sounded like she was talking, not reciting lines. She seemed like she was Dorothy. She even stayed in tune when she sang. Zoe was definitely the best one to audition so far.
When she came back to her seat, breathing fast and looking relieved, Natalia gave her a thumbs-up.
“At least it’s over,” Zoe whispered.
“Are you kidding?” Caitlin said. “You were great.” Ms. Andrews shushed her from the stage, and Caitlin pursed her lips, irritated.
Natalia stared at her friend. Caitlin complimenting Zoe? They really must have started liking each other more when they were rehearsing together. She grinned to herself. Being in the play together would be so much fun, now that all three of them were friends.
She shut her eyes for a second, imagining. She and Zoe and Caitlin, side by side, taking a bow. The audience cheering. What had Caitlin said? This year was the year they were the oldest in the kids’ theater group and would get the best roles. This year was their chance. Natalia opened her eyes and concentrated on the stage again.
None of the other prospective Dorothys were anywhere near as good as Zoe; at least that was what Natalia thought. Zoe, still looking worried, only shook her head when Natalia whispered this opinion to her.
Ms. Andrews auditioned the hopeful Scarecrows, Tin Men, and Cowardly Lions next, and Natalia went back to her script, trying to focus on getting the words perfectly if she wasn’t looking. When the director called up Glindas, though, Natalia folded her script again to watch.
Several of the Glindas were fairly good. One—not Caitlin—was the best singer by far, but she mumbled during the speaking parts. Another spoke in a strange singsong voice, which might have been intentional, but Natalia didn’t think it worked very well.
Caitlin was the best, in Natalia’s opinion, but there were some other Glindas who were almost as good. Caitlin always put all of herself into trying to be the best at whatever she did, so she was wearing a dress that wasn’t quite what she would usually wear to school; it was just a little fluffier and sparklier and Good Witch–looking. And she had brought a glittery toy wand and was waving it as she talked. Natalia thought what Caitlin did worked perfectly, but it was what Ms. Andrews thought that would matter.
Still, she whispered, “You were great!” when Caitlin came back to her seat, because she had been. Zoe nodded. Caitlin looked tense, but she gave them both a strained smile.
Then Natalia leaned forward intently, because Ms. Andrews had begun to call up Wicked Witches of the West.
The first four girls were … fine. They didn’t express themselves as well as she would, Natalia thought. The Wicked Witch, in her opinion, should be over the top. She needed to cackle and snarl, and wiggle her fingers as if she were about to put a spell on Dorothy.
None of these girls did that as well as Natalia was sure she would. But they were okay. The one very tall girl, Darcy, who Natalia had noticed at the very first meeting—she didn’t go to their school—was the best. She loomed over Ms. Andrews threateningly as Ms. Andrews read Dorothy’s lines, and she twisted her face into an expression of menace.
Darcy was good, but Natalia thought she could do better. She didn’t feel nervous now; she felt excited.
When Ms. Andrews called, “Natalia Martinez? Come on up, Natalia,” Natalia felt like she was bouncing up onto the stage.
The first part of the scene went really well. Natalia cackled and crouched, made her fingers into claws, and grimaced threateningly. She could feel the other kids watching her, enjoying her performance.
Then she came to the part of the scene where she’d gotten stuck the other day. The Witch had just tried to take Dorothy’s shoes off and burned her hands. Natalia hesitated. It was something about not being able to take off the slippers while Dorothy was alive. What was it, exactly?
“Can I still have my dog?” Ms. Andrews repeated.
Natalia’s mouth was dry, and she swallowed hard. She looked desperately out at the other kids in the audience. Some of them were staring back at her, while others went over their lines or talked in whispers or stared off into space, daydreaming.
Then her eyes met Zoe’s. Her sister was looking back at her steadily. Something about those familiar brown eyes jogged Natalia’s memory. “No!” she said in a burst. “Fool that I am!”
They got a little further, through the Witch threatening Dorothy and Toto’s escape, and then Natalia got stuck again. This time, looking at Zoe didn’t help. Natalia stared wildly around the stage, hoping that something would jog her memory. Nothing did.
“Drat you and your dog,” Ms. Andrews prompted in a low voice.
“Drat you and your dog,” Natalia parroted back in her best Wicked Witch voice. She had no idea what came next. But suddenly, words were spilling out of her. Not the right words. “Your little dog, my pretty!” she ad-libbed. “He won’t get away for long! I’ll send my flying monkeys after him! They got him once, they can get him again!” This is completely wrong, she thought. “Something wicked this way comes!” she added desperately. That wasn’t from The Wizard of Oz, but it was definitely familiar. She gave her best witchy cackle, then looked at Ms. Andrews hopefully.
Ms. Andrews was just staring at her in surprise. Natalia didn’t know what to do, so she cackled again, waving her arms in the air. I look ridiculous, she thought, but she couldn’t stop. In the audience, someone giggled.
There was a burst of applause when she finished cackling. Better to laugh with them than to have them laugh at me, Natalia thought, so she gave a sweeping bow, her long hair brushing the stage, then headed for the stairs offstage.
“Thank you, Natalia,” Ms. Andrews said coolly, and made a note on her clipboard. She didn’t say anything else, but Natalia thought she looked disappointed.
Darcy had definitely done better in her audition than Natalia had. And the other girls who had tried out had at least remembered their lines.
Natalia knew that she had messed up. Holding her head high, she climbed down from the stage and took her seat. Caitlin nudged her and made a sympathetic face. Natalia tried to smile back, but she could feel her lips wobbling.
“You were great, except for the end,” Zoe whispered. “Maybe it’ll be okay.”
Natalia winced. Zoe’s voice was wistful, and Natalia knew her sister was trying to be encouraging. But it only made her feel worse. There was a sick, unhappy sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wiped her hand roughly across her eyes.
“I should have prepared better,” she whispered back.
Natalia had thought it would be so awesome. She and her twin and her best friend, in three of the best parts in the whole play. Rehearsing together, doing each other’s makeup for the show, taking a bow together, going to the cast party.
It would have been great, and now it wasn’t going to happen. Natalia knew that with complete certainty.
I really blew it, she thought sadly.
Three days later, Natalia still couldn’t think about her audition without feeling sick. She dragged her feet as she headed for Seaview House after school, the pit in her stomach deepening as she remembered the disappointed look on Ms
. Andrews’s face. She knew she hadn’t gotten the part.
And it was all her own fault, Natalia thought, scuffing her sneakers along the sidewalk. She had just assumed the audition would be fine. She should have rehearsed and rehearsed like Zoe and Caitlin had.
While Zoe was still in the shower that morning, their mom had told Natalia that the wedding party would be checking in today with Ruby and Bandit. After school, the girls would need to start taking care of all four dogs. Natalia knew her mom expected her to let Zoe and Emma know, but she hadn’t told them. It wasn’t Zoe’s fault Natalia had blown the audition, but Zoe had done so well, and Natalia had done so badly. Natalia didn’t want to be around her sister right now.
And Natalia was the one who had agreed to take care of the dogs. She might not have practiced hard enough for her audition, and she might not be doing great in math right now, but she was a responsible person, she thought, tears stinging the backs of her eyes again. She could handle the dogs.
Natalia slowed even more as she approached Seaview House. The sun was shining and the last of the roses were still blooming on the bushes in front of the house. Several cars were parked out front. As Natalia watched, a woman she didn’t know climbed out of one of the cars, her arms full of golden fabric, and hurried into the house.
Usually, Natalia liked meeting new people. But right now, the idea made her very tired. Still, she steeled herself and lifted her chin, putting a smile on her face. She was going to keep her promises and take care of all four dogs, and she would be nice to everyone she saw. She was responsible.
Inside, Seaview House was buzzing with activity. Aunt Amy and a woman who looked like an older version of Rachel-the-bride were hanging the golden fabric, draping it across the back wall of the dining room.
“And gold tablecloths,” the woman was saying. “Will there be enough white flowers?”
“We have enough white roses left in the gardens to make the arrangements they want on the tables,” Aunt Amy told her. “And the florist will be here first thing on Saturday for the arrangements for the ceremony.”
The woman—Rachel’s mom? Natalia thought—nodded in satisfaction and tacked the fabric she was holding to the wall with a long pin.
“Hi!” Aunt Amy said cheerfully to Natalia. “Rosemary, this is my niece Natalia. She and her sister and my daughter are taking care of the dogs. Natalia, this is Mrs. Akers, Rachel’s mom.”
“Hello, dear,” the woman said. “I hope you can handle them. Why Rachel and Mike are insisting on having those dogs in the wedding party I have no idea.”
Natalia smiled politely. “They’re nice dogs,” she said. “I can manage them.”
“Bandit and Ruby are upstairs in their owners’ sitting room,” Aunt Amy said briskly. “Jasper and Daisy are out on the screened porch.”
Rachel’s mom frowned. “There are other dogs?” she said worriedly. “Ruby’s a handful.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got this,” Natalia said, trying to project confidence.
“And it’s not just her,” Aunt Amy said reassuringly. “Where are the others, Natalia?”
Natalia waved vaguely back toward the door. “Outside,” she said. “We’re fine.” And I’m not lying, she thought defiantly. They’re outside of Seaview House, even if they’re not right outside. And we are fine.
Aunt Amy and Rachel’s mother began discussing decorating again, and Natalia took the opportunity to head for the stairs. The clatter of pots and pans and the sound of more voices showed that Uncle Brian was in the kitchen with at least a few more guests. As Natalia started up the stairs, another older couple hurried past, followed by a younger woman.
She smiled at them politely, but it was a relief when the noise died down and Natalia was alone upstairs.
Rachel and Mike had the nicest suite of rooms on this floor, the one Natalia’s mom and Aunt Amy called the “honeymoon suite”: a big bedroom that overlooked the garden, and a bathroom that had a giant claw-foot tub and a totally separate walk-in shower. Best of all was the sitting room, which had a floor painted to look like a medieval map, with odd-shaped continents and an illustration of a puff-cheeked cloud-man blowing a boat across a blue-green sea. Natalia’s great-grandfather had painted it more than seventy years ago, when Grandma Stephenson was just a baby, and every few years, she would hire a local artist to come in and carefully trace over the paint, so that the colors stayed vibrant and beautiful.
It was the best part of the whole suite, better than the view of the garden and the fancy bathtub. Well, usually it was. When Natalia opened the sitting room door, she saw that somebody had lugged down an old carpet, a ragged blue-and-gold one Natalia vaguely recognized from the attic, and had spread it out to cover the floor from wall to wall.
A warm, furry body slammed into her, making her stagger backward, and she realized why the rug was there. Ruby was practically bouncing off the walls. If the rug hadn’t been there, the whole floor would probably have been scratched up by dog nails as she paced around.
“Hey there, pretty girl,” Natalia said, dropping to her knees so that she could rumple Ruby’s ears and pet her. “You lonely? You need a good run?” Ruby’s tail beat the air as she licked Natalia’s face, wiggling with delight. “Yuck, yucky kiss,” Natalia said to her in a baby voice, wiping off the dog spit, but she didn’t really mind. “Where’s Bandit, huh?”
She pushed Ruby gently backward so that she could get farther into the room. Bandit was sprawled in the middle of the rug. Without raising his head from the carpet, he thumped his tail twice, then closed his eyes.
With dismay, Natalia saw there were scraps of chewed paper everywhere, scattered across the rug, even on the seats of the chairs. “Did you do this, Ruby?” Natalia asked, picking one piece gingerly off a chair between the tips of two fingers. “Bad girl.” Ruby, undiscouraged, panted up at her happily.
The paper, she saw, was a scrap of newspaper. All the others looked like they were, too. “That’s a relief,” Natalia muttered. “At least you didn’t chew up anything important.” She crawled around the room on her knees, gathering up scraps of paper. Ruby, apparently deciding this was a delightful new game, followed behind her, occasionally making a whuffing noise and trying to lick Natalia’s face. Bandit cracked an eye open and watched them for a couple minutes before closing his eyes again.
“There,” she said finally, tossing the handful of ruined newspaper in the trash. “I think that was pretty responsible of me, don’t you, Ruby?” Ruby barked, and Natalia patted her again. “I’m glad you agree. Let’s go.”
She took the dogs’ leashes off the sideboard, and Ruby almost exploded with joy, whipping around in ecstatic circles so that Natalia had to catch her to get the leash on. Finally, Ruby was properly leashed and Natalia bent and snapped the second leash to Bandit’s collar. “Come on, good boy,” she said as he slowly heaved himself to his feet. “You can do it.”
Natalia’s mom looked up as they hurried down the stairs, Ruby straining at the leash and Bandit yawning and walking as slowly as he could manage while still being with Ruby and Natalia. She frowned slightly, a little anxious line appearing between her eyebrows. “You okay, honey?” she asked.
“Sure!” Natalia said brightly. She was relieved to be all the way down without having fallen on the stairs. “I’ve just got to get Daisy and Jasper.”
Her mom shook her head. “Four dogs is a lot at once. I’m glad you’ve got Zoe and Emma to help you.”
“Yup,” Natalia said, heading for the door. I’m not lying, she told herself. Zoe and Emma are helping me. Just not right now.
Outside, it was cooler, and late-afternoon shadows were starting to spread across the grass. Natalia hadn’t realized picking up the paper had taken so much time. “We’d better get the other dogs, huh?” she said to Ruby and Bandit. “I bet they want a nice long walk, too.”
Keeping a firm hold on the leash so that Ruby wouldn’t dash away, Natalia led the dogs across the wide front lawn and around the corn
er of Seaview House, toward the screened back porch, where Daisy and Jasper were waiting.
As they got closer, Natalia could hear Daisy yapping. “She probably sees a squirrel,” she told Ruby and Bandit. “Daisy loves squirrels.”
Ruby stiffened and stopped. She glared at the screened-in porch, her lips curling back to show her teeth. “What’s going on, girl?” Natalia asked.
With a sudden jerk, Ruby began to stalk forward across the grass, dragging Natalia and Bandit after her. When she got just a few feet from the screened porch, she stopped and barked twice. Low, threatening barks, nothing like the happy barks of excitement Natalia had heard from her before. Daisy and Jasper stared back at her and then Daisy scuttled to the farthest end of the porch and hid under a swing. Jasper charged forward and began barking deep, loud barks back at Ruby.
“Okay, no,” Natalia said. “Hush. Ruby, hush. Jasper! Quiet!”
Jasper paused for a moment, but Ruby continued to snarl and bark, glaring at the dogs on the screened porch. In response, Jasper began to bark again. Daisy, huddled beneath the swing, began to yap nervously, too. Bandit ignored all of them and sniffed at the grass.
“No!” Natalia said again. “Stop it!” She pulled Ruby back around the corner of the house, Ruby straining at the leash and barking at Jasper the whole way.
As soon as they got around the corner, Ruby’s angry glare disappeared and her tail went back up. She panted up at Natalia as if to say, What’s up? Aren’t we going to play? Bandit sighed and sniffed at a bush.
“I see,” Natalia said to Ruby. “Is that how you’re going to be?” Ruby put her front paws on Natalia’s legs and tried to reach high enough to lick her face. Natalia wasn’t happy—how was she supposed to walk the dogs if she couldn’t get them near each other?—but Ruby was so sweet that she could feel her heart softening.
Experimentally, she led the dogs back toward the corner of the house. As soon as they came in sight of the screened porch where Jasper and Daisy were, Ruby began to snarl. Natalia pulled her and Bandit back to the side lawn. Immediately, Ruby appeared to forget about the other dogs once more.
