Chapter 22
When I get to Tony’s house for rehearsal, he’s standing at his garage door with his hands clasped.
I bow to him. “Good day, Mr.?Zitolo.”
“I—” He turns to the garage door and back. “Well—” He turns and turns back again. “Okay.”
He goes to a keypad and enters a code, and with a quiet whirr the garage door lifts away.
Inside, three green folding chairs face a green stage. Green curtains hang across the back wall. A microphone stands center-stage beside a speaker painted, oddly, yellow.
“You did this?”
Tony makes himself taller. “With my dad. My mom found someone selling the speaker.”
I take the two stairs up the side of the stage, brushing my hand along the curtains. “You could hold open mics here. You could start your own all-ages club.”
“That is a long-term goal.” He points to a pile of boards and screws under a piece of paper with hand-drawn diagrams. “I’m trying to do an IKEA hack to turn that wood into a podium for checking in patrons, but I haven’t figured out how yet.”
“This is so cool, Tony.” I’m suddenly overwhelmed by appreciation for him.
I’ve known him since before we learned how to read.
He taught me how to tie my shoes. One day life may take us in different directions but right now he is here, in front of me.
I haven’t lost my chance to appreciate this moment, this person.
“You know we’ve known each other since before we learned how to read? You taught me how to tie my shoes.”
His cheeks are red. “Let’s get down to business. I’d like to run through the first—”
“I invited Andi. I hope that’s all right.”
“That’s awesome. Just remember that Andi’s scowls don’t represent the reactions of most Long Islanders.”
“That’s what I’m interested in.” I walk to the microphone and my voice booms. “I invited someone else too.”
“Someone else?”
I step back from the mic. “Have you met Elijah Summers?”
“Why would I have met Elijah Summers? There are only three chairs here.”
He extends an arm to the three chairs.
“I’ll be onstage.”
“I only have a certain number of potato chips.”
“What do you have, three chips? I’m sure you have enough chips.”
Tony’s mom calls through the wall, “We have popcorn and brownies and I’m making cupcakes!”
“How did she hear us?” I whisper.
His face darkens. “She is not of this world.”
Outside, an engine rumbles, clangs, and shuts off. A door creaks and slams.
“House opens in five!” Tony shouts.
Andi’s voice replies at regular volume, “I have a VIP pass.”
“You gave them a pass?”
“They’re joking.” I call to Andi, “Five minutes!” I look back at Tony. “How you doing?”
“Good. But I’d like to have a pep talk with my client.”
I sit on the edge of the stage. “Pep me. I’d love to be pepped.”
“You would?”
“I feel, at this moment, completely unconcerned about whether I’ll make people laugh.”
Excitement flashes across his face. He tries a few poses before putting his hands on his hips.
“Do you know why my mom is making cupcakes? Because you’re here.
Do you know why Mrs.?Farmer will be at that show tomorrow?
Because you’ll be there. People like you.
And tomorrow night at Captain’s, Joe Johnson will become one of those people.
Assuming he’s there. All you have to do is go up and be yourself. ”
“And be funny.”
“Well. Obviously.”
“But what if being myself at that moment doesn’t mean being funny?”
He glares.
“I can hear you anyway so can I just come in?” Andi says.
“House open!” Tony shouts without breaking eye contact.
The sun beams around Andi as they enter the garage. Something looks different about their silhouette.
“Your hoodie,” I say.
They’re wearing a gray T-shirt inside out. I look away as though it would be rude to see their bare arms.
They pull a folding chair to a spot away from the others. “I threw it out.”
“Forever?” I’m sad it’s gone, like I would have framed it or put it in a box to find years from now.
“When is our final audience member arriving?” Tony asks.
“You invited Christy?” Andi asks.
Christy and I haven’t spoken since we broke up. Maybe I’ll never see her again, like we’re in a Witness Protection Program but she is the witness and I need to be protected from her.
“I didn’t invite her, but should I have?”
Andi gasps. “Is it the person who made you dislike men?”
“You’ve heard of this guy?” Tony asks.
“Now he’s made me stop disliking men,” I say.
Tony steps onto the stage. “Then I consider this gentleman a patriot and I welcome him with open arms!”
Andi gasps again. “Wait! Is this—”
Elijah stops in the entryway. “Is this the right time?”
Tony hops off the stage and runs up with his arms held straight out to the sides. “Would you like to bring it in?”
“Elijah, this is Tony,” I say. “Tony, Elijah.”
“You’re asking if we can hug?” Elijah says. “We can hug.”
Tony wraps his arms around him in one quick grab-and-release. Elijah stumbles toward Andi, holding up a hand to say hi.
Andi stands and adjusts their beanie. “I’m Andi.”
“I love your shirt,” he says.
I’ve never seen Andi look more uncomfortable.
Elijah turns to me and I am suddenly aware of Tony’s and Andi’s eyes.
“Hello.” I wave from the stage.
Elijah laughs. “Hello.”
There’s a long silence, during which I hear Mrs.?Z loudly asking her phone, “Siri, what is the best dog food for hungry dogs?”
I take the microphone. “Let’s get started! Thank you for being here. Truthfully, I’m not in the comedy headspace right now, but I want to make Tony happy, so I’m going to read aloud THE GREATEST HITS and—”
“You gotta perform it!” Tony shouts as he takes a seat.
Elijah sits next to Tony. Andi doesn’t move closer.
“It feels false to put on a show in front of three people,” I say.
“Then don’t put on a show,” Andi says.
“Put on a show!” Tony shouts.
Elijah leans over and quietly asks Tony, “You’re his manager?”
Tony looks startled. “Yes.”
“May I make a suggestion to him?”
This startles him more. “Sure.”
Elijah looks at me. “Mazzei says to memorize only the bullet points, and then speak from the heart. That’s what you did in the auditorium, right?”
“It is,” I say.
He smiles. “Well, I thought that went great.”
“Comedy requires succinct punchlines,” Tony says, looking at me. “Joe Johnson memorizes every line.”
“And this is Sean O’Brien,” Andi says.
Tony looks from Andi to Elijah. He’s become outnumbered.
“Elijah might be right,” I tell Tony. “If I deliver the greatest hits line by line, I’ll do well.
But someone tomorrow night is going to do incredible.
It might be a smarter risk to use the greatest hits as a starting point, then talk off the top of my head to allow for surprise.
There’s a chance it’ll be a disaster, a very real chance.
But it’s the only way to allow space for miracles too.
Which is the only way I could possibly win. ”
Tony grits his teeth. He sets his face and takes a long, heavy breath. Then he stands and begins a slow clap.
“Please sit down,” Andi says.
Tony does not sit. “Yes, Sean O’Brien! Yes!” He throws a fist in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He claps louder. “Woo!”
Andi turns to Elijah. “I’d say he’s not normally like this, but this is exactly what he’s like.”
Elijah lifts his legs and hugs them to his chest. “You’re all sweet. I’m very happy to be here.”
“Aw.” Andi smiles, I think genuinely.
A wave of panic rises up. My oldest friend, my formerly new friend, and my first and still-not-announced-as-such boyfriend are all sitting together. Their bulk knowledge of me is unsettling.
I plant my feet at the microphone and deliver the first line from THE GREATEST HITS : “When I was in elementary school, a girl would tell a guy she liked him by beating him up. And let’s just say the girls loved me.
” But something in my voice doesn’t communicate it as a joke.
I say it like it depresses me, which, I realize now, it does.
It’s not the way I would use humor anymore. Tony’s face goes white.
I tell myself to say something funny, but I can’t help but say what I’m actually thinking and feeling.
I talk about the girl who pushed me in the sandbox, Lauren, and how she came out soon afterwards.
How we never became friends but whenever we passed each other in the hall we’d give each other a serious nod like we were old war buddies.
It only made me feel lonely, though, because I didn’t understand it, and it felt like there’d always be this distance between me and others.
I tell myself to end with some kind of punchline, but I say, “I fear that’s still the way I am, even talking to the three people I’m closest to—like I’ll never let myself feel less alone.”
My chest cracks open and I hold on to the microphone stand.
Tony, Andi, and Elijah all look at me with blank faces.
“I think I’ve lost the ability to be funny.”
Andi cackles. I look out of the garage and see, next to Tony’s house, the first real house Mom and I lived in. I see Mom laughing as she played tag with me on the front lawn.
“I’m reverse-rehearsing.”
Elijah laughs. I see Mom silent as she packed the car for us to move away.
“Every comic bombs!” Tony says. “You’re getting all your bombs out right now.”
I close my eyes. “Comforting.”
“You’re subverting what we expect,” Elijah says, and I tell myself to hear him. “We expect you’re going to make us laugh, but instead you’re making us feel. It causes us to listen closer.”
My mind clears. “Like they’re still punchlines, but they’re punches to the heart.”
“Exactly.”
I try to let myself take comfort in this. “I like that idea.”
Elijah smiles.
“Is this even comedy anymore?” Tony says quietly, and stands. “Rehearsal’s over.”
I step away from the mic. “Over?”
Mrs.?Z comes in with a dozen blue cupcakes held high. In her other hand she pulls a red wagon of snacks and soda cans. She places the cupcakes on the stage and I see they spell, in white letters, VOTE 4 SEAN!!!
Andi gestures at the snack feast. “How many people are coming?”
“Do we need more?” Mrs.?Z asks as she rushes back inside. “I have pizza bagels!”