A Traitor Among the Boys (9 page)

T
he Hatfords were preparing to go to the theater. Josh and Wally were dressed up like boys of long ago. Josh was in a three-piece suit and a shirt with a high collar that felt like a rope around his neck. Wally wore a flannel shirt and baggy pants with suspenders. Josh wore a straw hat, Wally a leather cap, and they were each so clean and scrubbed that Wally complained his ears squeaked.

“Wait till you see the set, Mom!” Josh kept saying. “The stage manager just turned the backdrop over and let me paint a whole new scene. It really looks like a field now, with the animals in the back smaller and the ones in the front bigger/’

“And they don't have women's legs on them, either,” Wally said. “Everything looks real.”

“This is an exciting day for you, Josh—almost like having your paintings in a gallery,” Mrs. Hatford said. “I've invited all my friends to come.”

What Josh wished, of course, was that all
his
friends would come to see the set, and then leave before he had to hold hands with Beth Malloy and say those sappy lines.

On the other hand, if he had to say them at all, he'd rather say them to Beth than any other girl he could think of.

Wally, however, was only thankful that he didn't have to hold hands with anybody onstage,
especially
with a girl. Thankful he didn't have to say anything, either. The only reason he was in this stupid play at all was because Josh wanted company and Wally wanted to be his buddy.

Jake hadn't even wanted to go watch. He said he saw his brothers acting dumb every day, why would he want to go to a theater and see them act dumb onstage?

But Mrs. Hatford said this was a family affair, and if he didn't care enough for his brothers to come and watch their performance, then he could wash all the supper dishes she'd left in the sink. Jake put on his coat and cap. Everyone piled into Mr. Hatford's Jeep, the one he used when he delivered rural mail, and drove the few blocks downtown, Peter chattering happily in the backseat.

At the theater, Wally and Josh used the stage entrance while the rest of the family went in the door at the front.

The other cast members were nervously putting on makeup, combing their hair, and straightening the sleeves of their costumes.

Mrs. Malloy was brushing Beth's hair, tucking little
flowers into the headband across the top. Wally heard her say, “I won't be able to stay long, dear. Caroline's sleeping, so as soon as you say your lines, I'm going to zip back home. The doctor thought he could get there about nine.”

“That's okay, Mom,” Beth said. “I understand.”

“Is Caroline sick?” Wally asked, walking over.

“Yes, poor thing. She is just beside herself that she can't be in the play. She looked forward to it so much,” Mrs. Malloy told him. “But we took her costume over to Tracy Lee, and I know she'll do a fine job.”

Man, oh, man!
thought Wally, would Caroline ever be unbearable when she came back to school.

When the lights dimmed, a banjo player came onstage and played a lively tune, and then a spotlight shone on the narrator, who was sitting on a high stool over on the left side of the stage. He was telling the story of Buckman, about the farmer who had only daughters and the grocer who had only sons, and how one day they had talked about incorporating their little community and making it a town.

As he mentioned various events and conversations, the spotlight would jump to the players who had crept onstage. They would say their few lines, and then the spotlight would go off again and the narrator would continue. The person who was operating the spotlight, however, was obviously new at the job, for sometimes the spot of light would shine on absolutely nothing while a voice came from somewhere else onstage. Once, the spotlight fell on an actor's shoe and
never did make it up to his face, and everyone laughed.

When Caroline was to come on as Beulah, Tracy Lee grandly made her entrance, wearing Caroline's clothes. When she said, “In fact, why not name it
Beulah,
after
mei”
the audience laughed loudly, and Tracy Lee looked pleased.

A few scenes later, Josh and Beth stood onstage holding hands. Wally was sitting on an overturned bucket, chewing a piece of clover—or what was supposed to be clover. He heard Jake give a soft groan of disgust down in the first row when Josh said, “Anna-belle, I never thought I'd amount to much, but when I met you, everything changed.”

And Wally heard Mrs. Malloy sigh when Beth looked up into his eyes and said, “With you by my side, Elmer, we can do anything.”

It was at that moment the spotlight turned to the right, where Beulah would tiptoe onstage and whisper to the audience, “If they think they can have a wedding without inviting
me
to be in the bridal party, they're in for a surprise!” Tracy Lee started to step out in Caroline's long black skirt and blouse, when suddenly an arm reached out and yanked her back, and there came Caroline in her coat and pajamas, her face flushed, her hair disheveled. Her voice was as raspy as a rusty saw, and she bleated, “If they think they can have a wedding without … with … uh …,” and she stumbled about awkwardly onstage.

The audience gasped.

“Caroline!” came a stage whisper from behind the
curtain, and another arm reached out and tried to grab her.

“Caroline!” cried Mrs. Malloy from the second row, and immediately got up and exited through the little door beside the stage.

“Let go!” Caroline was crying, flailing at the hands—three of them now—that were trying to grab her. “I'm Beulah! Please! I'll be the sickly daughter, then! I
am
sick! Oh, please let me be in the play!”

But at that point Mrs. Malloy herself stepped onstage, encircled her feverish daughter in her arms, and whisked her away.

Wally could not believe his eyes. The fake clover fell out of his mouth.

Beth and Josh continued to hold hands, staring after Caroline, and the narrator shakily began reading again. Offstage, Wally could hear Caroline's muffled protests as she was led outside, and Tracy Lee's sobs, but the show went on, as it always must, and when it was all over, the audience broke into loud applause.

Josh, Wally, and Beth stood in the wings talking after the final curtain.

“I was
so
embarrassed!” Beth kept saying.

“It's not your fault,” Josh told her. “Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone knows it was my sister, though! She was acting half crazy. She must be even sicker than we thought!”

Tracy Lee marched by with fire in her eyes and said to Beth, “I never want to be in a play with your sister again. She just has to have all the attention, doesn't she? Well, she got it, and I hope she's satisfied.”

But family members were crowding backstage now. The art teacher from school was there.

“Josh, is this true? The program said you painted the set. It's wonderful!”

“Yeah. It was lots of fun,” Josh told her.

“Wonderful job, Josh,” said another teacher.

“Just great,” said Mr. Hatford.

Wally was glad that the play was over and that neither he nor Josh had goofed up. He was glad that everyone had liked the set. But there was another feeling he had never, ever felt before, and he could hardly believe he felt it. He was really, truly a little bit sorry for Caroline Malloy.

Fifteen
The Awakening

C
aroline had only the dimmest recollection of what had happened. She vaguely remembered getting out of bed when she heard her family leaving for the theater, but she had no memory at all of pulling on her coat and boots.

She did remember that it had been cold outside, and that it had seemed a very long three blocks to the theater. But when she went in the stage entrance, she stood by the radiator a minute, which warmed her, and then she heard Beth and Josh saying their lines, and after that … she only remembered how bright the lights had seemed and how dark the audience, and all the hands reaching … reaching … to pull her back.

Mrs. Malloy was sitting by her bed when she opened her eyes again, and so was Dr. Raskin.

“It sure looks like strep,” the doctor was saying.
“We'll take a throat culture to be sure, but I'd bet my last dollar.” Caroline gagged when he swabbed her throat. It was so very sore.

“I know you're feeling rotten, Caroline,” the doctor went on, “but I've given you a shot of penicillin and we're working on that fever.” He looked at Mrs. Malloy. “She should be better in a day or two. Call me if you need to.”

And with a pat on Caroline's knee, he picked up his bag and left the room.

Mrs. Malloy sat down again beside the bed.

“I feel awful,” Caroline whispered huskily.

“I know,” said her mother.

“My head hurts and my throat's on fire.”

“I know,” her mother said.

“And I had the most awful dream! I dreamed that I went onstage in my pajamas.”

“I know,” Mrs. Malloy said again.

Caroline closed her eyes and slept once more, and the next time she opened them, Beth and Eddie were sitting beside the bed.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, how are you feeling?” asked Eddie.

“Awful,” said Caroline. “I keep having this dream that I'm going onstage in my pajamas.”

“That was a nightmare, all right,” said Beth. “But it could have been worse. You could have walked on naked as a lightbulb.”

Caroline tried to sit up and braced herself on one elbow.

“It didn't really
happen,
did it?” she croaked.

Beth and Eddie looked at each other.

“She's going to find out eventually,” Eddie whispered. “Might as well tell her.”

Beth looked at Caroline. “Yes, it really happened. You came onstage in your pajamas and boots and coat and said you were Beulah.”

“Or the sickly daughter, either one,” added Eddie.

Caroline's eyes widened in horror. “Then … Then there
were
lights in my eyes, and there
were
hands reaching out, trying to pull me back.”

“You bet,” said Eddie. “The most excitement Buckman has had all year. But don't worry. Everyone realized you were simply out of your head.”

Caroline fell back on her pillow. “I'll never go out of the house again! I'll never be able to face anyone, Eddie!” And she started to cry.

“We shouldn't have told her,” Beth whispered.

“And have her find it out from the Hatfords? Are you nuts?” asked Eddie.

“I want to be home-schooled!” Caroline wailed. “I want to go to a convent! I want to go back to Ohio—
now
!”

Mrs. Malloy came into the room and, with a stern look at Beth and Eddie, sent them scurrying. Then she sat down beside Caroline and took her hand.

“Caroline,” she said, “the first thing actresses have to learn is to
use
the things that happen to them, even the awful things. Don't try to throw it away. I know you're embarrassed, but whenever you need to act embarrassed in a play in the future, you will know how that feels. You'll remember this moment, and remembering will help your cheeks grow pink, your pulse to
race. Keep every sad or angry or fearful or embarrassing thing that ever happens to you in your memory bank so that you can draw on it when you need to.”

Mrs. Malloy was the only one who understood.

“Thanks, Mom,” said Caroline. It didn't make the humiliation less real, but it did help to think that maybe all great actresses had to go through this from time to time, and that someday, when she was on Broadway, people would forget all about tonight and remember her only as a famous actress.

But that was a long way off. Right now she had to think about facing her friends at school. Worse yet, she had to face the Hatfords.

▪

It was Thursday before she could go to school. Wally had been bringing her homework by and leaving it with Mrs. Malloy. But now the time had come to face the class. The first day back she asked Eddie to walk in front of her so no one could see her coming, and Beth to walk in back so no one could see her from behind.

Still, she felt absolutely sick inside, and as soon as she walked into her classroom, she knew that everyone was looking at her, even the teacher, as though at any moment she might stand up and do something crazy.

Wally, in fact, kept leaning forward in his seat as if she might go berserk and take a bite out of his shoulder or something.

But Caroline tried to remain calm, and when Wally finally turned around and said, “Welcome back from the crazy house,” Caroline replied, “You're right. I
was positively out of my head with fever. It was the highest fever a girl has ever had and survived, and if it had been any higher I would have died.”

“No kidding?” said Wally, his eyes growing larger.

“In fact,” said Caroline, who couldn't stop herself, “I didn't have any shoes on, just boots, when I walked to the theater, and I couldn't even feel the cold. If there had been hot coals onstage, I could have walked across them and not even felt it. When a person is in as feverish a state as I was, she could stick knives in her arms and pierce her tongue and not feel a single thing. In fact—”