Mavis giggles. “They weren’t kidding!” She laughs again. “They really did tie him up!”
Johanna follows Mavis into the dressing room. “This place is disgusting!” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I’m amazed you don’t asphyxiate yourselves with your own
BO
.”
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but make yourselves useful and untie me!”
“Hmmm,” says Mavis thoughtfully. “No can do. We’re under orders.”
“What orders?”
“We’re not sure yet. But we’re not supposed to untie you,” replies Johanna. “We’re supposed to wait.”
“For what?”
The girls shrug their shoulders. Then we sit. I’m still working on the knots when Charis comes in, frowning when she sees me.
“I almost didn’t come,” she says, “but I’m not like Odette, though you seem to think so.”
“Charis, come on,” I say. “I didn’t mean it. We’re friends, remember?”
“I don’t know if we’re even still
pals
,” she retorts as she plunks herself down on the bench.
Next is Sybille. She sees me and bites her lip.
I can’t help myself. “Happy now?” I ask.
“I was mad at you. So sue me. You bring out the worst in people, you know, Rob.”
“So you being mad at me is all
my
fault?”
Sybille grins. “Yeah. But I’m over it now.”
I shake my head. Pretty soon I’m going to need my own barbed wire to protect myself against female logic.
After that we wait, although for what, I have no idea. I’m still working at the knots.
Finally there’s a grunt, then a clatter, and Cam and Jeremy drag Odette, literally kicking and screaming, into the change room.
“Get your hands off me! And let me out of here! He is
so
not my problem!”
Jeremy doesn’t let her go. He pushes her onto the bench and holds her down.
Who’s not her problem? This is not sounding good to me at all.
Cam jumps up onto the bench. “Ladies, we have gathered here today,” he intones like an old-time preacher, “to save the Premier Dance Company.” Mavis giggles again. “Apparently, Robin here is going to completely ruin the upcoming production. The travesty about to occur is completely and entirely his fault.”
“Big surprise,” mutters Odette, who is still being held down by Jeremy.
“Gee, thanks, man,” I say.
“These tragic words were spoken by the man himself.” Cam bows to me with a sweeping arm. “Not for him, but on behalf of the company, we must intervene and save the day.”
“Give me a break. And untie me!”
All the girls except for Odette are laughing now.
Cam grabs my copy of the play from the mess of stuff he dumped from my bag. “Only the play can release you.” Then he leaps across the room to the other bench. Flipping to the end, he reads from the last act, “
If we shadows have offended…
”
He points at me. “Has he offended?”
“Oh yeah!”
Cam goes back to the book. “
If we have unearnèd luck…
Does he?”
“Oh yeah!”
“What is this, a revival meeting?” I mutter.
“
Give me your hands if we be friends, / And Robin shall restore amends.
Okay, folks, we need to give him a hand!”
There aren’t so many “Oh yeahs” after that line.
“Okay, enough,” says Jeremy as Cam finally unties me. “This is actually serious. Rob’s so frustrated he’s about to blow a gasket. Or quit. Whichever comes first. The company’s got him all confused, so we have to sort him out. So spill, big guy. Where are you at, and what do you need?”
So I spill.
“I pretty much know the steps now…” I start.
“Well, good for you,” says Odette sarcastically. “I mean, you open day after tomorrow.”
I ignore her. “The thing is, Rick could really get into character. You really believed he was a fairy. He was light on his feet, and jumpy and playful. And I’ve tried to copy him, but I can’t pull it off. So I’ve been studying this other Puck off a
DVD
, and he’s more solid—athletic, you know? That works better for me, but I’m not consistent with it.”
Johanna says, “Your problem is that you can’t channel Puck?”
“Yeah, exactly.” I sigh with relief. They get it.
Everybody in the change room bursts out laughing. “He can’t channel Puck!” hoots Charis.
“What’s funny?”
Jeremy is trying to rearrange his face to look serious, but he’s having a hard time. “Here’s the thing, Rob. You don’t have to channel Puck. You
are
Puck. That’s why they picked you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Think about it. If they’d needed an understudy for Oberon, the King, who would they have picked? Of the three of us, I mean.”
Cam answers right away. “You, Jer. You’re definitely King material.”
“Right,” answers Jer firmly. “We’re all good dancers, but we’re not the same. I’m dignified,
stately. Boring.” With a quick glance at Sybille, he sighs. “But absolutely solid. What if they’d needed an understudy for Bottom?”
I get it. “Cam, of course. He’s funny.”
Cam waggles his eyebrows to demonstrate.
“Of course. Cam. He’s the comic. But they needed Puck. Explosive, frustrating, disruptive Puck. And you, my man”—Jer punches my arm—“are that guy.” For a moment Jeremy looks sad. “Even if my mother doesn’t get it.”
“What you need to do,” Charis goes on, “is the same stuff you do in class with us. Play games, tease. Be a smart aleck. You don’t want to make people laugh, like Bottom does. You want them to feel like strangling you, even though they love you because you’re so clever.”
“Yeah,” adds Sybille. “Just be you.” At that, everybody breaks up again.
Everybody except Odette. “It’s not funny,” she huffs, and then she looks straight at me. “And I won’t help you. You’re not a serious dancer—you’d rather mess things up to get a laugh. It’s no surprise to me that you fall apart when things get a little tough.” With that, she shrugs off Jeremy’s hold and marches to the door. Then she turns and
casts her evil eye on everybody else. “Why would you even bother to help him?”
“Because sometimes dancers have to work as a team,” Charis shoots back. “And this is one of those times. If you’re not going to help, make sure you close the door on your way out.”
“Help
you
? No way.” Odette’s glare hones in on me again. “For the record, I think strangling him sounds like a much better idea.” And with that, she’s out the door.
“Wow,” says Mavis. “That was a little harsh.”
I shrug. “I don’t care what she thinks. I care what you guys think. So how do I just be me onstage?”
I pace while everybody thinks. “For starters, you have to stop copying other Pucks,” says Charis. “You have to be your own Puck.”
“But how do I create my own Puck?”
Everybody thinks some more.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” asks Cam. “You have to prank the other dancers.”
“Prank the company?” Sybille looks horrified. “He can’t do that.”
“Sybille’s right,” I say. “It’s the company, not you guys!” Charis glares at me. “Okay, sorry—
I didn’t mean it like that. But these guys are stars!”
“All the more reason,” says Cam. “You, my man,” he goes on, poking me in the chest, “are intimidated by them.”
“Well, yeah. Aren’t you?”
“Of course,” says Cam. “But I don’t have to dance with them. You do. Am I right, or am I right, Jer?”
Jeremy has gone a little green, which makes me laugh.
“You’re right,” he says, “but the very idea of pranking the company makes me feel sick to my stomach.”
“So what’s the prank?” asks Mavis. “What will you do?”
“Here,” says Cam. He throws my copy of the play at me. “Read it again. You’ll figure something out.”
I feel the old magic coming back. Pranking magic. “Jer, can I borrow Ratinski?”
As the girls squeal, Jeremy slumps down. “Please, please,” he whispers to himself. “Please don’t let my mother find out.”
I lay awake all night, leafing back and forth through the play. Cam’s right—it’s all in here. Puck frightens the maidens of the village, misleads night wanderers, changes into a horse and later a hog…but that’s all kind of difficult to reproduce onstage. Especially that bit about changing into a crab apple, although how cool would it be to bob about as an apple in somebody’s drink, then change back into a miniature fairy to scare the bejeezus out of them as they took a drink? But I can definitely make things go missing and knock people down. All Puck really does is make everybody mad, then make it all better. I can do that.
The fact that the company dancers don’t really know me is in my favor. They won’t be
expecting a sneak attack. But Cam was right. I do feel intimidated by them. Is pranking the company going to make that better? Or much, much worse?
At breakfast I’m still thinking so hard about the whole idea that I don’t hear my name being called, and Mr. Colson has to come right to my table and tap me on the shoulder. “Mr. Acton wants to see you in his office, Robin,” he says quietly. He looks serious.
Shoot. Maybe it’s too late. I have to drag myself down the hallway.
“Come in, Robin,” says Mr. Acton. “Sit down.”
Here it comes.
“I’m going to have to replace you as Puck. I’m sorry, Robin, but I’m really worried about the performance. So is the rest of the company. I’m afraid we may have made a mistake assigning such an important role to a student.”
“You couldn’t know that Rick would break his ankle.” It’s all I can think to say.
“True,” says Mr. Acton, “but that’s the point of an understudy, and I know better than to assume accidents won’t happen. Please don’t think I’m disappointed in you. It was my mistake
for putting too much on your shoulders too soon. I hope you won’t feel bad about being replaced, but I don’t see that I have any choice. You’ll have other chances.”
Not feel bad? While I wait for other chances? We both know they won’t be coming my way. It’s now or never.
“Mr. Acton, I have an idea. Please, will you give me one more chance?”
“Robin, I applaud your dedication. No one could have worked harder. But the dress rehearsal is this afternoon! There’s no time left for more chances.”
“At least listen to my idea. Please?” And I tell him. At first he just looks tired and a little impatient. Then I see it—the smallest twitch on one side of his mouth. I know he wants to laugh—I know it! Not many would notice, but true pranksters recognize each other. So I embellish, add layers. His eyes crinkle. It’s working.
When I finally run out of breath, Mr. Acton sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. “You know the company dancers may never speak to you again, don’t you?”
“As long as they’ll dance with me, I won’t care,” I say firmly.
“Humph,” he snorts. I sit on the edge of my seat as he thinks. “You could use Starveling’s lantern.” Then he grins.
He’s in!
And so am I, for one more rehearsal, at least.
This is going to have to be epic.
* * *
“You have got to be kidding me, man,” Cam says. “Are you really going to wear this? Or
not
wear this?” He and Jer are helping me into my costume, such as it is. It’ll leave me about as close to dancing naked as you can be without getting arrested.
“What can I say?” I try to sound breezy. “Fairies are supposed to be like spirits or something. Since when did spirits wear clothes?”
“True,” says Jeremy skeptically. “But I think wrapping yourself in fig leaves went out with Adam and Eve. As a fashion statement, this is a little out there, you know.”
I look in the mirror. The silk vine wraps around me, and as far as I can tell, it covers everything that needs to be covered. Barely. “So shoot the costume designer. I’ve got enough to worry about.”
But here’s the thing. My mother is going to see me in this. So yeah, I’m worried.
“Have you got it all set up?” asks Cam. He and Jer cut school this morning to go to the joke shop downtown for me. I had a long shopping list for them, and they didn’t miss a single item.
“I skipped lunch to get everything ready, so we’re good,” I reply. “Where are you sitting?”
“Front row, center,” says Cam. “That way I’ll be able to see everything.”
“I’m going to be backstage, stage right. I’ll have to hide until I can collect Ratinski,” adds Jeremy. “Then, of course, I’ll have to run for my life.” He groans. “How is it I always get talked into this stuff?” He shakes his head in frustration.
“Because you’re a good guy.” I slap him on the shoulder. “Remember, this is for the good of the company, right? We’re going to save the show. Anyway,” I add, “Charis is going to distract your mother until it’s all over. And you know Charis. Your mom’s not getting anywhere near this theater until she says so, dress rehearsal or not.”
“I can only hope,” mutters Jer.
Right then Charis walks in. “Jeremy, I told your mom that Mr. Acton wanted some changes to the program, so she’s down in the office. It’ll keep her there for a while.” She eyes me up and down. “He didn’t really want changes, so I had to fake it. I rewrote your bio, Rob. You’re now a mechanical robot designed in a lab to be a perfect dancer. But there were so many errors in your software, they threw you away. Unfortunately, we got stuck with you. Hope you don’t mind. I think it reads well.”
“You’re so amusing.”
“Love the horns,” she adds.
“What can I say? In some cultures, Puck is considered a demon.”
“My, my.” Charis grins from ear to ear. “Robin Goodman, I do believe you’ve found the perfect role!”
“Ha-ha.”
“And they go so well with…whatever it is you’re not wearing. When you said you wanted girls to go for you because of your body, we didn’t realize you were going to put it all out there. Can we auction you off after the show?”
Cam chortles. “We told him, but he insists on wearing it.”
“You guys are all so very hilarious. Wish me luck,” I say as I go into the rehearsal studio to warm up.
“Yeah,” they say. “Break a leg, why doncha?”
“Sorry,” I call back. “It’s been done.”
When I walk into the studio, I get a few surprised looks and a lot of frowns. I guess the company didn’t expect me back. I take a deep breath. Well, I’m here, and I’m staying. I go to the barre and close my eyes. As I run through the warm-up, I imagine Puck inside of me. My Puck, nobody else’s.