Chapter Thirty-Seven
Eliza
“But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail.”
—William Shakespeare, Macbeth
Groups of fireflies milled about near the tree line, as if they wanted a front-row seat for the show. If I listened carefully enough, the chirping of tiny tree frogs down by the river mingled with the low whirr of energy pulsing around me from the audience.
Sure, the amphitheater didn’t have air conditioning or velvet seats or a top-of-the-line sound and lighting system, but performing Shakespeare here, outside, felt pretty darn magical.
If I closed my eyes long enough, I was transported to the Globe.
Maybe it was the night air or the tension of the tragedy about to unfold, but this performance felt like it would be our best yet.
I thought we had lost everything over a week ago with the fire, but really, we gained something more than I ever could’ve imagined.
We had become a family.
I cupped my left hand around the mouthpiece of my headset. “The audience seem overly quiet to you, Cara?”
Silence filled the receiver for a long minute before she replied in a whisper, “Well, it is a tragedy. And it’s not like they don’t know what’s about to go down.”
“True,” Katie chimed in from next to me on the soundboard.
I leaned back in my chair and clicked my next cue, slowly bringing the lights down on stages right and left.
The sun had set not too long ago, so Hazel’s spotlight could finally stand out, highlighting all the attention on Romeo and Juliet in the tomb.
Romeo had just died by poison, and Juliet was about to wake up.
Lauryn killed it in her rehearsals this week but hadn’t delivered believable crying, which she needed for this final scene. I crossed my toes and held my breath.
You can do this, Lauryn.
Her eyes fluttered open. Even from this distance, her grief was so palpable that my own throat tightened. I could barely breathe as she tried to shake her (now dead) husband awake.
Suddenly, the Friar’s voice boomed as he fled the scene. “ ‘I dare no longer stay.’ ”
Ugh. Truly one of my least favorite characters in any play.
A “man of God” abandons a young, just-came-out-of-a-coma girl, leaving her alone with her dead husband in the middle of a freaking tomb surrounded by her other dead relatives, including her cousin, who’s still freshly decomposing, and yet everyone calls Paris or Tybalt the bad guy? Please.
Lauryn’s body collapsed in grief over Romeo’s on the floor of the stage, the lavender in her hair sparkling under the single spotlight as her Capulet headpiece clattered to the floor.
I gasped.
Whether or not she meant for it to fall off, it was the most powerful moment yet.
Ms. Sparrow’s idea, to have Romeo die on the floor instead of on Juliet’s stone slab like so many other versions, added a totally different level of emotion. The two of them isolated, in the dark, with this lighting, was almost too painful to watch.
Lauryn found the dagger and held it up, the blade glittering, her eyes more golden than brown. She mumbled something wordless as if to call forth its power.
Chills draped over me like a cold blanket from my shoulders to my ankles as her cheeks glistened with tears.
“Oh, Lauryn,” I whispered as I hit my next cue.
Her voice trembled with emotion, but her projection effortlessly carried over the amphitheater. “ ‘O, happy dagger, / This is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die.’ ” She brought the blade down swiftly and “stabbed” herself, the audience members simultaneously sucking in a deep breath.
Crushed it.
My heart pounded as the families entered the tomb a moment later and crumpled around the two lovers’ bodies, my fingers trembling with the final cues.
The fade-out on this “new” program on my laptop was super tricky.
I had to hit “Enter” at just the right moment and hope the Prince would keep his pacing the same as he did during rehearsals, which was a 50/50 chance, since most actors sped up during the live performances.
“You got this,” Hazel’s voice came through my headpiece as she slowly zeroed out her spotlight.
The Prince began his final phrase, and with shaky fingers, I pressed my last cue, which would momentarily outline the lovers before a final blackout.
The faint blue of a silhouette appeared and started fading.
Three.
Two.
One.
Blackout.
I threw my fist into the air before high-fiving Katie as the audience rose to their feet with applause and cheers.
After I brought up all the light trees on the stage for bows, Hazel almost bowled me over. “That was awesome!”
“Thank you!” I squealed. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Your timing and hits were perfect.”
She beamed and hugged me quickly before hurrying off down the main aisle toward the stage.
We had to take our troupe out of the theater, it’s true, but you could never take the “theater” out of our troupe.
Five minutes of happy dancing with Katie later, I powered down my laptop and started packing up the gear in the tubs Ms. Sparrow had brought over from the high school.
The sound techies were already winding up some of the cords as well and carefully placing their new mics back in their padded cases.
We would load the tubs and cords into one of our rental vans for overnight storage before unpacking it all again for tomorrow night.
“Eliza!” Lauryn crashed into me, still wearing her funeral gown. “I CAN’T BELIEVE WE DID IT.”
“Oh my God, I know, right?” I fixed one of the pieces of lace on her shoulder. “You were phenomenal. Seriously. The best I have ever seen you perform.”
“Really? Even better than Dorothy two years ago?”
“Totally. You kicked Dorothy’s ass right back to Oz.” I laughed and started singing the theme from The Wiz.
She hugged me again and then reached into her bag. “I have something for you.”
She pulled out a breathtakingly beautiful crown no one had worn in the performance. Its band was golden with flames like the Capulet headpiece but woven around the flames were dozens of tiny silver leaves from the Montague design.
“I thought you, more than anyone else, needed to have a crown that represented both families.” She gently placed it on my head. “Perfect.”
I ran my fingers over it and beamed. “I love it. Thank you.”
“Hey, Crowley.” Cara hurried over, headphones draped around her neck, and extended her hand. “Way to go.”
I shook it. “You too.”
“Promise me you’ll take good care of this program for me next summer, okay?” she asked.
My throat tightened. “I promise,” I said. If I’m still here.
Ms. Sparrow weaved her way through the crowd toward us with someone I didn’t recognize.
She gave Lauryn a hug and whispered something into her ear before she hugged me.
“That was outstanding. It took my breath away. You may be a Crowley, but you’ve got the heart and soul of a Doolittle.
Your grandmother would’ve been so proud of you. ”
I blinked away tears. “Thank you.” Wherever she was, I hoped she saw it.
Ms. Sparrow gestured to the tall woman next to her. “Eliza, Lauryn, I’d like introduce you to my fiancée, Morgan Adams.”
“You’re engaged?” Lauryn clapped and bounced on her toes. “Congrats!”
“Yes, congratulations!” I added.
“Thank you,” Ms. Adams replied. “But I think you two deserve the congratulations after that stellar performance.”
Ms. Sparrow nodded. “Morgan is the head of the UNC theater department, girls.”
Wait. THAT Morgan Adams?
Lauryn stared, speechless, while I offered my hand to Ms. Adams, praying it wasn’t sweaty. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Adams. I caught your productions of The Crucible and A Raisin in the Sun last year—amazing.”
“Thank you.” She shook my hand. “Charlotte has been singing your praises to me all summer. I couldn’t get her to talk about anything else…other than flower arrangements.” Her eyes twinkled.
Really?
“You had to reconfigure everything you did at the Lyric onto a new board and in less than two weeks, right?”
“Right.” My cheeks burned.
“That’s impressive—especially for a high school student. The simplicity of your choices was outstanding. I especially loved your use of lanterns on the stage as well. Brilliant.” Ms. Adams beamed.
A million words rattled around in my brain, but all I could manage was a semi-coherent “Thank you.”
Ms. Adams pulled out two small cards from her purse and handed one to me and the other to Lauryn. “I assume you ladies have heard of our new internship opportunity for next summer?”
“Internship?” Lauryn asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Yes.” Ms. Adams winked at me. “It’s a great way to get your foot in the door with our department before the fall semester begins.
While you don’t have to be a committed UNC student to apply, I do hope you two will consider our program as you make your choices this year.
We could use innovative minds like yours in our department. ”
“Innovative minds”?
Ms. Sparrow put her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll make sure they both get the forms turned in on time, Morgan.”
“We will!” Lauryn blurted before Ms. Adams and Ms. Sparrow left hand in hand a moment later.
Did that really just happen?
Mom hurried up to us with tearstained cheeks, looking as giddy as I felt. “Eliza, that was incredible. You have a real talent for setting the mood. I mean, my God, with the wedding, Mercutio’s death, and that final silhouette before the blackout…I think I held my breath the entire time.”
I hugged her tightly. “Same. I’m still struggling to catch my breath.”
“You’re going to struggle a bit longer, then,” Lauryn chimed in. She held out her phone, which was open to the Crowley Park Facebook page.
The Fulton Hawks were up 5–4 with one inning left to play.
Holy crap.
Reed was doing it. He finally found his rhythm.
Pride, and something much stronger that I hadn’t found the courage to admit to myself yet, bloomed in my heart, daring me to take a chance.
“I gotta go.” I grabbed my keys and wallet from between the sound and light boards.
“Now?” Mom asked. “Why?”
“Because sometimes you just have to leap first and think later, right?”
She grinned and took my keys. “I’ll drive.”