Chapter 7
Monty turned up at their RV later in the evening to give Chicot a finalized version of the script.
Her fingers twisted in her long, flowy skirt, a simple white T-shirt on top as she handed Chicot the binder, offering her a small smile.
Monty always wore such sweet-looking clothing, and now Chicot could smell the waft of an oak moss and black current perfume she wore.
“Lyza’s next appointment is on Thursday,” Monty said. “We’ll know for sure if or when she has to leave then.”
Chicot nodded. “I’ll make sure I’m ready. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” Monty rubbed the back of her hand with her thumb.
Chicot pressed her lips together, unsure what to even say.
She’d be devastated if Elijah was going to be out of their show very suddenly.
In fact, she couldn’t even imagine it or how she’d feel.
Chicot’s lips pursed. She didn’t know if there was anything she could say to make her feel better, but Chicot didn’t have the chance anyway, because Monty turned to start walking away.
“Anyway, if you need to run lines, just text me or Elvis,” Monty called.
“Okay, we might have to practice in the field too,” Chicot said. Monty looked at Chicot over her shoulder.
“Yeah, we can do that too.” Monty then linked her hands behind her back as she went back to her place.
Chicot sighed, setting down the script and picking up Duchess as she made her way toward the bed. Elijah was sitting on it, spread out like it was a couch, his phone in one hand as he watched YouTube videos.
“I have bad news,” Elijah paused his video. Chicot frowned, bouncing Duchess in her arms like one would a baby.
“What’s the news?”
“We didn’t get into Canterbury Festival in Colorado.” Elijah sighed and let his phone drop flat onto the bed.
“Fuck.” Chicot pressed her face into Duchess’s fluffy chest, ignoring her as she pressed a paw against Chicot’s temple.
She didn’t want to think about getting another rejection, or the many places that simply wouldn’t respond to their application, so she buried her face in her cat even though she sort of smelled like tuna.
Once Duchess started to squirm, Chicot let her go, gently putting her on the bed.
Duchess immediately turned around for ear scratches.
“Want me to help run lines?” Elijah pointed towards the script Chicot had brought in.
“Yeah,” Chicot said. “I need to try my absolute best. And it will be a good distraction.”
Elijah nodded, putting his phone aside so he could pick up the script.
Chicot settled on the bed next to him, at first reading her lines and then looking at the ceiling as she tried to remember them without looking.
Eventually, Chicot stood up, needing the book less so she started to play with Duchess as Elijah said Elvis’s or Monty’s lines to her, and she would respond with her own.
She only had a week before they had to finalize the blocking.
Luckily, they could meet often, and Lyza was always there with them, an umbrella to shield her from the sun as she held the script and gave them notes.
Monty even warmed up to everything as the week went on, meeting with Chicot and Elijah at their RV to run lines on Thursday while Lyza and Elvis were at the doctor.
They sat in camp chairs under their measly, old sunshade, drinking lemonade and having Elijah fill in for Elvis’s part.
In the afternoon sun, things were easier.
Monty laughed at Elijah and Chicot’s antics between reads and joked about her skirt getting in the way of her trying to practice certain movements.
She was soft, Chicot noticed, and her demeanor was quiet.
However, when Monty did speak, it was usually happy and gentle, even when she was correcting Chicot or giving her notes.
Her critiques were careful, constructive, and kind.
It made Chicot’s chest feel like it was made of wax, slowly melting in the early July sun as Monty helped Chicot remember blocking or where to tuck her sword so she wouldn’t hit Monty or Elvis accidentally.
Elijah seemed to notice it, too, notably making himself absent to make more lemonade.
Then he’d come back and they’d force him to play Elvis’s part again.
Without Elvis, practice was casual, and even if they needed to get serious, this was important too.
Chicot’s entire being relaxed, and so did Monty’s, the two of them exchanging jokes over Elijah’s head or at his expense.
Sometimes, something self-deprecating would slip through, and Monty would assure Chicot it wasn’t true.
They were still outside their RV when Elvis and Lyza returned from the doctor, the early evening sun just starting to dip low in the sky.
It wasn’t dusk yet, and it wouldn’t be for a few more hours.
Lyza’s eyes were red around the rims as they approached, a smile cracking on her face the moment Chicot raised her hand to wave at them.
Monty stood up, going to meet them, but Lyza waved for her to stay where she was, her and Elvis joining the group even though they were out of chairs.
They still managed to be in the shade, and that was what was most important.
“Good news, the baby is great.” Lyza laughed softly, tears coming to her eyes as she said it. “I’m 9 weeks along, but the doctor is worried about the strain from the acrobatics. He said I should probably stop after this weekend and focus on aerobic exercise.”
“Here, sit, have some lemonade.” Elijah stood, and Chicot immediately started to help him coax Lyza into his seat. Before Elijah could get the pitcher and pour Lyza her own glass, Monty simply handed Lyza hers. Lyza took a large swig, her face scrunching.
“Thank you.” Lyza was actively crying now, wiping tears from her face. “You all are so sweet.”
Elvis sighed softly. “Really, thank you all. This would be much harder without you three being so supportive.”
“It’s okay,” Monty said. “We just have to be ready for Chicot to take your spot by next week, right? Which we’ve been preparing for from the start, just in case.”
Monty looked at Chicot, who promptly nodded in agreement.
“And I’ll be ready, I promise.” Chicot leaned toward Lyza slightly, still holding her lemonade in one hand as Elijah and Elvis stood over the three of them.
Lyza hiccupped, another sob rocking her shoulders. Monty grasped at the air with one hand, as though she could find a way to grab the words she wanted out of thin air. They all blinked at her, Chicot pressing her lips together because she wasn’t sure how to react.
“Sorry!” Lyza trembled, crying and laughing simultaneously somehow. “I’m just so lucky to have you all.”
“God, you had me worried.” Monty nudged Lyza gently. Elvis then swept them all into a big group hug, much to both Monty’s and Chicot’s dismay.
“Okay, okay.” Monty dragged herself away. “We only have another week. Let’s get back to practicing.”
Elvis and Chicot agreed, and all five of them walked out to the field to find a place where they could run the show again. Chicot chewed on her nails as they did, her mind wandering until they had finished clearing away any rocks or sticks that could potentially hurt them.
The second weekend of the faire was a blur for Chicot, her focus during the day on her show with Elijah and getting patrons to come see it, while her nights were consumed by The Pirates Three and managing to play Wee by next weekend.
They dedicated their entire two hours of gym time to it, which meant Chicot and Elijah had to find another time to practice.
Elijah seemed unbothered, but Chicot still asked him probably thirty times if he was really okay with it.
By the time Friday came, Chicot was feeling better, but she still had that strange feeling that the first show would be messy somehow.
Every time it came to mind, Chicot would repeat to herself that the audience probably wouldn’t notice even if it was.
Luckily, The Pirates Three went on before her and Elijah, so Chicot would have some time between shows.
This meant all her costume pieces were now stored in the backstage area, which Monty and Lyza had helped her organize.
Monty had even found an old clothing rack in their RV that they stuck in one corner so Chicot could hang her costume on it properly, rather than using the pegs that were already there that could damage her costume over time.
She learned quickly that she should have been more worried about being on stage without a mask on.
The first time she got up there alongside Elvis and Monty, Chicot nearly puked.
She spent the entire show narrowly making her lines and marks, and the nerves never really shook off.
Chicot still managed to do all the acrobatics correctly, her hand easily reaching the flag hoisted on the rope above the stage at the end.
People cheered when she grabbed it, her smile getting wider as she stepped down from the lift, Monty and Elvis popping up beside her, their arms raised before they each grabbed one of Chicot’s hands.
The three of them bowed together, people excitedly approaching the front of the stage to fill their tip baskets as Elvis reminded them to tip their performers.
Chicot spoke with kids who handed off their parents’ money and thanked her for the show. None of the adults seemed to have noticed anything amiss, which made Chicot think that maybe things were going worse in her head than in reality.