the drive up, Elliot finally gets to the point.
"Aggie has written a play, grandmother."
"Has she?" says Mrs. Baxter. She looks at me like she's appraising livestock. "Is it any good?"
"Oh yes, grandmother, it's marvelous," says Elliot.
I'm starting to wonder what has possessed him -- I mean, when did Elliot ever say things like "Oh yes, grandmother, it's marvelous"? It's like he's speaking a foreign language. The next thing I know, Elliot and Cameron both are going on and on about how wonderful the play is and how talented I am, and I'm sitting there feeling super uncomfortable but trying to look modest, which is not as easy as you'd think when two guys are talking about how great you are.
"I assume there is a reason you are telling me about this -- play," says Mrs. Baxter. She says the word "play" like it's some exotic foreign disease.
"You see, grandmother, we want to stage Aggie's play and -- "
"And you need money," she says.
The room falls silent and she stares at Elliot. I'm just starting to wonder if this is one of those old families that has an unspoken rule about never talking about money when Mrs. Baxter says, "How much?"
"We originally thought about five thousand dollars, but we found a free place to rehearse and our technical director has been very creative about saving money, so we think now about three."
"Three thousand dollars," says Mrs. Baxter.
"Yes, ma'am," says Elliot.
"That's a lot of money."
"Yes ma'am," says Elliot.
"How good is the play?"
"Aggie has a monologue she could perform for you, to give you an idea."
"Go ahead, dear," she says, fixing her steely eyes on me.
OK, now I thought the School of the Arts audition was awkward, but it was a relaxing soak in the tub with lavender-scented bubble bath compared to this.
First of all, Mrs. Baxter is practically anorexic, so naturally I feel like a fat cow. Worse, she's scowling silently at me the entire time, and Elliot and Cameron are so intimidated by her that they don't laugh either. Then, because the room is crammed with furniture, I hardly have any room to act. I think my knees actually brush hers at one point. I mean, seriously, I'm giving my monologue in her lap.
When I finish Elliot and Cameron clap for about a nanosecond, until they see that the old lady isn't going to join in. I sit back down, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I can't believe I sat in the car all morning just so I could experience this delightful humiliation.
Mrs. Baxter gets up and leaves the room without a word, so I figure something about the monologue must have offended her. Probably the word "naked." She does not look like the kind of person who ever says "naked."
"Is there a back way out?" I ask Elliot, but he just leans back in his chair, grinning. "Seriously," I say, "I need to get out of here."
"Sixty seconds," says Elliot.
So I sit on the edge of a chair and start counting to sixty in my head. On forty-nine Mrs. Baxter comes back into the room and hands Elliot an envelope.
"Make some of this back," she says, "and give it to the drama department at that school of yours."
"But the whole idea of the play is sort of to get back at the drama department," says Cameron.
"I suspected as much," says Mrs. Baxter. "And even though you're seniors, it would do you good not to burn that bridge. Promise me, Elliot."
"I promise," says Elliot, giving his grandmother a kiss on the cheek.
Fifteen minutes later, we're on the interstate shrieking with delight.
"Your grandmother is scary," I say.
"Your grandmother is awesome," says Cameron.
"She's both," says Elliot. "I could have told you that before we got there."
Act II
Scene 1
It takes a week and a half, but by the next Thursday I have notes from all my teachers, except Mr. Donahue, saying that I have caught up on my work. I am dying to go to rehearsal because first of all, I'm the star of the show, and second, I want to hear other people saying words that I wrote.
I've pretty much finished Act II,
"Aggie has written a play, grandmother."
"Has she?" says Mrs. Baxter. She looks at me like she's appraising livestock. "Is it any good?"
"Oh yes, grandmother, it's marvelous," says Elliot.
I'm starting to wonder what has possessed him -- I mean, when did Elliot ever say things like "Oh yes, grandmother, it's marvelous"? It's like he's speaking a foreign language. The next thing I know, Elliot and Cameron both are going on and on about how wonderful the play is and how talented I am, and I'm sitting there feeling super uncomfortable but trying to look modest, which is not as easy as you'd think when two guys are talking about how great you are.
"I assume there is a reason you are telling me about this -- play," says Mrs. Baxter. She says the word "play" like it's some exotic foreign disease.
"You see, grandmother, we want to stage Aggie's play and -- "
"And you need money," she says.
The room falls silent and she stares at Elliot. I'm just starting to wonder if this is one of those old families that has an unspoken rule about never talking about money when Mrs. Baxter says, "How much?"
"We originally thought about five thousand dollars, but we found a free place to rehearse and our technical director has been very creative about saving money, so we think now about three."
"Three thousand dollars," says Mrs. Baxter.
"Yes, ma'am," says Elliot.
"That's a lot of money."
"Yes ma'am," says Elliot.
"How good is the play?"
"Aggie has a monologue she could perform for you, to give you an idea."
"Go ahead, dear," she says, fixing her steely eyes on me.
OK, now I thought the School of the Arts audition was awkward, but it was a relaxing soak in the tub with lavender-scented bubble bath compared to this.
First of all, Mrs. Baxter is practically anorexic, so naturally I feel like a fat cow. Worse, she's scowling silently at me the entire time, and Elliot and Cameron are so intimidated by her that they don't laugh either. Then, because the room is crammed with furniture, I hardly have any room to act. I think my knees actually brush hers at one point. I mean, seriously, I'm giving my monologue in her lap.
When I finish Elliot and Cameron clap for about a nanosecond, until they see that the old lady isn't going to join in. I sit back down, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I can't believe I sat in the car all morning just so I could experience this delightful humiliation.
Mrs. Baxter gets up and leaves the room without a word, so I figure something about the monologue must have offended her. Probably the word "naked." She does not look like the kind of person who ever says "naked."
"Is there a back way out?" I ask Elliot, but he just leans back in his chair, grinning. "Seriously," I say, "I need to get out of here."
"Sixty seconds," says Elliot.
So I sit on the edge of a chair and start counting to sixty in my head. On forty-nine Mrs. Baxter comes back into the room and hands Elliot an envelope.
"Make some of this back," she says, "and give it to the drama department at that school of yours."
"But the whole idea of the play is sort of to get back at the drama department," says Cameron.
"I suspected as much," says Mrs. Baxter. "And even though you're seniors, it would do you good not to burn that bridge. Promise me, Elliot."
"I promise," says Elliot, giving his grandmother a kiss on the cheek.
Fifteen minutes later, we're on the interstate shrieking with delight.
"Your grandmother is scary," I say.
"Your grandmother is awesome," says Cameron.
"She's both," says Elliot. "I could have told you that before we got there."
Act II
Scene 1
It takes a week and a half, but by the next Thursday I have notes from all my teachers, except Mr. Donahue, saying that I have caught up on my work. I am dying to go to rehearsal because first of all, I'm the star of the show, and second, I want to hear other people saying words that I wrote.
I've pretty much finished Act II,
Similar Books
Mystery Of The Sea Horse
Lee Falk
The Coal War
Upton Sinclair
Come To Me
LaVerne Thompson
Breaking Point
Lesley Choyce
Wolf Point
Edward Falco
Fallowblade
Cecilia Dart-Thornton
Seduce
Missy Johnson
