Almost Starring Skinnybones (10 page)

I tapped Albert on the arm. “Her father’s a clown, you know,” I informed him pleasantly.

Skylar Fox started laughing. The rest of the kids sitting there did too. Everyone but Albert and Annabelle, that is. Albert and Annabelle practically exploded right out of their chairs. Then the two of them ran to the stage to tell Mr. Tilton.

You could hear Albert’s voice echoing all over the school. “He’s going to mess it up! I know he is! He’s just waiting to mess it up!”

I sat back and grinned.

  
9
  

M
y mother invited
the entire world to the play. She bought fifteen tickets and gave them away to anyone she could think of. She even gave one to my cousin Leon. The one with the grubby paws.

I guess I should have cared—all those people seeing me in such a humiliating part—but I didn’t. I think I was past caring. And besides, I had Albert and Annabelle so nervous, it was almost worth the humiliation.

On the night of the play I hadn’t even put my stuff down before Annabelle started making her stupid threats.

“I’m warning you, Alex,” she blurted, standing there in her dumb Mrs. Cratchit outfit. “If you ruin this play, my father will see to it that you never work in show business again.”

I looked her over. “Nice costume, Annabelle. The city dump will surprise you sometimes.”

She stomped her foot.

“I
mean
it, Alex! I’m not kidding!”

I winked. “Neither am I, Mumsy.”

Annabelle stormed away in such a frenzy, she didn’t even notice Albert Ruppert coming through the door.

He was being so quiet, I almost missed him myself.

His Scrooge costume was in his hand. But instead of putting it on, he sat down in the closest chair and doubled over like he had just been punched in the stomach.

The expression on his face looked familiar. It’s the same one you get when you’re eating over at a friend’s house and the kid’s mother makes you try a new vegetable. It’s usually brownish green, and it tastes so gross you can’t swallow it; and you can’t talk, and you can’t spit it out. So you just sit there with this horrible expression until you figure out what to do with it. Usually I pretend to cough and spit it in my napkin. If I don’t have a napkin, I put it in my pocket.

Anyway, the night of the play I watched Albert for several minutes before it finally dawned on me what was wrong.…

Albert Ruppert had stage fright! The more I
watched his face, the more positive I became. Old Albert Ruppert wasn’t as sure of himself as he pretended to be.

A big grin began to spread across my face.
Hmmm
, I said silently.
Should I, or shouldn’t I
?
Does Albert deserve a little teasing, or doesn’t he
?

I thought back to that day in English class, the day after my commercial, when Albert had stood up and pretended to play the violin while everyone laughed. My grin got bigger. I had my answer.

Slowly, I sauntered over to where he was sitting and smiled down at him. Casually, I stood there cracking my knuckles.

“How’s it going, Ebenezer?” I asked, rocking back and forth on my heels. “Pretty exciting, huh? Being the big star of the Christmas play. All those lines to remember in front of all those people. I was just counting the audience a minute ago. Five million and seven. I hope that doesn’t make you nervous.”

Albert was purple.

“I hope you don’t forget your lines or anything, Al,” I went on unmercifully. “In second grade, Bubby Greene forgot his lines and everyone started laughing their heads off. Bubby wet his pants. I hope something like that doesn’t happen to you, Albert.”

Albert’s eyes opened real wide. It was a new worry he hadn’t thought of before.

“Oh, by the way, Al. I’ve come up with a few little surprises for you during the play. You know, just to keep you on your toes. I think you’ll really get a kick out of them.”

That did it. Albert shot from his seat like a bullet. The next thing I knew he was heading down the hall toward the boys’ bathroom.

It sort of surprised me, if you want to know the truth. I didn’t know he’d react like that. I was just messing around, that’s all. Where was his sense of humor?

Mr. Tilton saw him leave and rushed after him. Meanwhile, the clock on the wall kept ticking away. Six thirty … six forty-five … six fifty. Most of the cast members already had on their costumes and makeup. The play was scheduled to start at seven thirty.

I couldn’t put it off any longer. I went into one of the little dressing rooms and came out with my sissy suit on. Little brown shorts, knee socks, a white shirt with a wide circular collar, and a big fluffy black bow tied at the neck. The bow was the worst. Tiny probably picked it out himself. He probably thought it looked sharp.

After I was dressed, I walked into the hall. The
boys’ bathroom was down at the end, around the corner. I checked my watch. Five minutes after seven, and still no Albert.

I opened the auditorium door a crack and snuck a peek at the audience. It was packed. The whole city was in the auditorium, and Scrooge was in the boys’ lavatory afraid he was going to wet his trousers.

Suddenly there was some commotion in the hallway behind me. I spun around just in time to see Mr. Tilton come screeching around the corner. He was charging in my direction with this crazy wild expression on his face. His hair was sticking out in all directions.

He was alone, too. Albert Ruppert wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Mr. Tilton was really cruising now. He hurdled a mop and bucket and never even broke stride.

“Quick! Quick! Quick!” he shouted at me as he screeched to a halt. “Do you know Scrooge? Do you? Do you know Scrooge?”

I took a few steps backward.

“Uh … do I know Scrooge?” I began cautiously. “Er, ah … yes. I know Scrooge, Mr. Tilton. Scrooge is Albert. Albert Ruppert. You know him too. Remember? Kind of a tall kid with—”

Mr. Tilton jumped up and down. He seemed to be having some sort of breakdown.

“No, no, no!” he yelled. “I mean, do you know Scrooge’s
lines
! His part! He said you might. Do you?”

He was grabbing at my wide circular collar.

“I’m not sure,” I sputtered. “I mean, when I was trying out for the part, I knew most of his lines. I guess I still do. I’ve heard them enough. Why? Is Albert sick or—”

“Down to the bathroom!” he interrupted. “Quick! Change clothes with Albert and get back here in ten minutes! I’ll try to stall the audience!”

I stood there in a daze. “Geez, I don’t know, Mr. T. I’m not sure I’m even in the mood for this anymore. I was at first, but—”

Mr. Tilton wasn’t even listening. He gave me a push.

“Go! Hurry!” he called. “We’re all counting on you! Albert won’t do it, and we’re counting on you!”

Another nudge. “Faster! Faster!” he urged.

Inside my head a million thoughts were swimming around at once. Was this really happening? Was I really headed down to the lavatory as Tiny Tim and coming back as Scrooge, the star of the play? I thought stuff like this only happened in …

The movies! Of course! That’s what this was! Finally I was getting a scene right out of the movies. Something bad happens, and then something good
happens to make up for it. This was my something good! I deserved it too. After all I’d been through, nobody deserved it more than me.

Okay, now think, Alex! Think!
I ordered.
Can you handle this? Do you really know the lines like you said you did
?

“Bah! Humbug!” I bellowed confidently. “Bah! Humbug!”

By the time I reached the bathroom, my heart was pounding like crazy.

I took a deep breath. Now for Albert. Was he going to be nice about this? Or would he be crouching in the corner with some sort of weapon?

Cautiously I leaned inside. “Albert, I need your costume,” I called softly.

There. That had been easy enough. Now I’d simply walk in and get it. If he had a machine gun, I’d call Mr. Tilton.

I swung the door open wide. Albert was standing over the sink by the window. The water was running and his face was wet.

He looked up. Only for a second. But I could tell he’d been crying.

He turned away to hide his face. Then, without saying a word, he took off Scrooge’s coat and laid it on the sink next to the hat. After that he went into one of the little stalls, locked the door, and quietly began taking off the rest of the costume.

I didn’t know what to say or do. When you’re prepared for hand-to-hand combat, crying sort of catches you off guard.

Slowly I walked to the mirror and untied my fluffy bow. Albert tossed over his shirt.

“Thanks,” I murmured awkwardly.

The rest of Scrooge’s outfit followed. As it tumbled to the floor, Albert blew his nose.

I put the costume on as quickly as I could. The coat, the hat, the shirt, the pants—all of it. Too big, of course. But with the sleeves folded under and the pants legs pinned up, it wouldn’t be bad.

I laid my Tiny Tim costume on the floor, where Albert could reach it. Then I covered my ears tightly so I couldn’t hear the sniffling.

“I’m going now,” I stated matter-of-factly.

I uncovered my ears in case he wanted to wish me good luck or something.

He didn’t.

“Okay, then. Here I go. I’m going.”

I paused again to listen. The sniffling had stopped. Now there was no sound at all.

Wait a minute. No sound at all?

“Albert?” I said, pounding on the locked door. “You’re okay in there, aren’t you?”

Nothing
.

“Okay, Albert. Now listen very closely. You know that little story about Bubby Greene? Well, it
wasn’t as bad as I made it sound. He hardly wet at all. He didn’t even leave a puddle.”

I knocked again.

“Albert?” I called. “Al?”

I was just about to peek under the door when he finally answered.

“Just get out of here, Alex! Just go!”

“Whew!” I said, relieved. “Albert, I thought you might be—”

“I’m sick,” he blurted. “That’s all. I’m just sick.”

“Yeah. Sure you are, Albert,” I agreed weakly.

For the next few seconds I stood there in silence and stared at the locked door in front of me. A lot of thoughts were racing through my mind. Racing so fast I couldn’t sort them out.

I looked at my Scrooge reflection in the mirror. If this was my “something good,” why was I so confused?

“This is great, Albert,” I grumbled quietly. “You’re taking all the fun right out of this for me.”

“Just go,” he ordered again.

This time I was the one who was silent.

“Alex, I said
go
.”

Still nothing.

“God, Alex!” he shouted suddenly. “Why can’t you just get out of here and leave me alone?”

“Because. That’s why,” I mumbled.

“That’s no reason! Because
why
?” he demanded.

“Because … I don’t know why!” I started to shout. “Because maybe I know how you feel, that’s all!”

I took off Scrooge’s jacket and threw it back over the door.

“There! Okay?”

Albert threw it back.

“Geez, Albert!” I shouted again. “Why are you making this so hard for me? I’m not going to mess it up, okay? Just do the stupid play! You’re a good Scrooge, Albert! Don’t you know that?”

I took off the rest of the costume and shoved it under the door.

Frantically I put on my Tiny Tim outfit and left.