Chapter Six

Why should I like him, I wondered as I walked to the theater the following evening. He was conceited and pushy.

Obviously the first person I ran into was Matt, who talked to me for a while. I offered monosyllabic replies to his chatter, barely comprehending what he was saying. He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, thankfully, and our interview ended promptly, much to my satisfaction.

I barged into the girls’ dressing room and dropped my things. No one else was in yet, and I had the whole place to my crabby self. I pulled myself onto the counter and leaned my head against the wall. A distinct, inexplicable urge to cry came over me, but I resisted the impulse and called myself all number of names. Why should I cry? What was wrong with me anyway?

Soon the room began to fill and chaos ensued.

“There’s a boy in the dressing room!” Some girl screamed, pointing to Andrea Harper, the girl who was playing Cherubino.

“That is so not funny.” Andrea shot back disdainfully, though some girls still laughed at their own attempted wit.

“What happened to my shoes?” Another girl queried frantically until they were produced from where they had been inadvertently shoved the previous evening: under the sink.

“Can I borrow your blush?” Another girl begged of me.

“Sure.” I said. Everyone knew that people weren’t supposed to share make-up, and everyone knew that positively no one followed that precaution, the more fools we.

“Where is Christine?” “My dress has a tear!” “I need, like, fifty more bobby pins!” “How come I can’t make this work today? It worked fine yesterday!” “I hate my costume!” “I can’t wait ‘till we start!” “I can’t wait ‘till we leave!” “Who stole my hairbrush!” “My voice is terrible today!” “I look so ugly in this!” And other similar declarations filled the air perpetually, obliterating any chance of sanity; which was minimal to begin with.

We checked props and warmed-up just before the house opened, and then returned to our rooms for final preparations as the house began to fill.

We could hear excited babble issuing from the auditorium, but in the green room and dressing rooms all was (finally) quiet. That is, the desperate pre-show queries where now whispered instead of shouted.

Everyone was excited –save a couple stick-in-the-mud choristers– and one could almost feel the surge of adrenaline as the stage manager made the rounds calling out the time-honored, eloquent, rallying cry: “places.”

We sang our hearts out. The energy escalated to a never before seen height with the cast, as we all had that little extra spark that comes only with performance. The audience loved it, and the show went well. Albeit we had a few mishaps like Andrea losing her shoe as she leapt from the window in Act II. She yelped a little as she went over, and I realized that Cherubino’s shoe lying in the Countess’s chamber wouldn’t do at all, so I hastily threw it out the window as well, and proceeded with the scene, hoping that the Count and Countess would wait long enough for me to be safely stowed away in the closet before they entered. And of course they did. Oh, I dearly love stage managers.

We all went away bubbling with excitement, “great jobs,” and “see you tomorrow”s.

I met a breathless Bethany at my dorm who reiterated every moment of the show, which I was more than glad to listen to, until we were at last too tired to stay up any longer. But I lay in bed happily going through the excitement all over again in my head.

* * * * * *

The first weekend of the show was, all in all, a great success, and I found the next week that the college newspaper had reviewed it. I made a dash to procure one for myself as quickly as I could, and I was soon situated in the library reading it in solitude. The review was written by an English student I had never met, and this is what it said:

"The music department’s production of 'The Marriage of Figaro,' directed by Cynthia Palmer, and musically directed by Adam Hatter, is off to an excellent beginning. The title role is played by Matthew Blake, who is, as always, terrific. His intended, Susanna, who is played by freshman Miriam Elliot, was witty and amusing, and Elliot has an incredible voice. Blake and Elliot were especially good together as lovers, and as the audience you can be truly angry with the Count (Jacob Knight) for trying to break them up.

Cherubino, which is originally written for a castrato, but is played by a soprano in modern productions, was portrayed by Andrea Harper. Cherubino had everyone in stitches, particularly one old lady in the audience. She couldn’t seem to laugh hard enough in the scene where “he” is being disguised as a woman.

Most enjoyable to myself were the scenes in Act I where Marcellina (Christine Miller) and Susanna are having it out with each other, and also when practically everyone ends up in one chair!

The show was cast exceedingly well: everyone in every part sang excellently.

The costumes for the production are designed by Kathleen Woodhouse, and are beautiful, the music is remarkable, and though the plot is absurd, the show is a terrific achievement for the college. Bravo!"

It wasn’t a professional review, but it was very complimentary. I lay the paper down and shivered with pleasure.

“Anything interesting in the paper?” A boy asked me. I hadn’t seen him come, and he startled me.

“I was just reading a review of The Marriage of Figaro.” I replied.

“Oh, I saw that. It’s a pretty decent show. I don’t much like opera myself, but the college has some okay singers.” he said. I looked amused, and he continued. “It was way, way too long, though. Have you seen it?”

“Not exactly.” I said calmly.

“Do you like opera?” He asked.

“Rather!” I nodded, smiling, but refraining from laughing.

“You might like it. You should go see it. Someone I know is in the orchestra, which is quite good. Well, see you.” He said, and walked away.

I walked, apparently placid, out of the library, sat down on a bench, and laughed until I couldn’t laugh anymore.