Crushing on a Capulet (6 page)

Friar Laurence stooped over and picked a small flower. “Within this tender blossom, for instance, is both poison and medicine. Smell it, it cheers you up. Taste it, and you fall into a deep sleep that looks like death itself!”

“He talks to himself a lot,” I said.

“Our book calls it a soliloquy,” Frankie whispered.

I chuckled. “Sosillyquy? Because it's so silly to talk to yourself?”

She turned to me. “I don't think so, Devin—whoa!”

Grabbing our hands, Romeo jumped out of hiding and leaped in front of the friar. “Good morrow, Father!”

The friar turned. “Oh! Romeo! You startled me. Oh, my poor heart! Well, well, up early, I see. And with friends?”

“I'm Devin. This is Frankie,” I said, bowing.

“Welcome to you all,” the friar replied. “I see, our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.”

Our friend smiled. “I was feasting with my enemy.”

“Capulet's party?” said the monk. “You were there?”

“Not only was I there,” Romeo said with a quick nod, “I was wounded and need your medicines.”

The friar gasped. “Wounded?”

“Wounded in the heart,” said Romeo, with his smile turning into a kind of distant gaze. “By Juliet, daughter of my sworn enemy.”

“Talk about a crush,” said Frankie. “This guy was flattened by a Capulet. And for the record, Juliet is pretty nuts about him, too.”

“And the reason I'm here,” said Romeo, peeking into the friar's little hut, “is to ask you to marry us.…”

The friar dropped his basket.
Thunk!

“Today,” said Romeo, grinning.

From the look on the friar's face, I bet if he had still been holding that basket, he would have dropped it again.

“Today?” he coughed. “Today!”

Friar Laurence was obviously having a real problem getting his head around this. “But what about sweet Rosaline?”

“Hey, we said the same thing,” I told the guy. “Romeo doesn't even remember her. And you gotta admit, Rosaline doesn't even seem to show up in the play. I mean, here we are in act two, scene two and—”

“Play?” said the friar, his eyes wide. “Act? Scene?”

Then I remembered that people in the books we get dropped into don't really know anything about their being in a book. It's their life, that's all. I decided not to rock the boat. “I mean, you know, this play … of life!”

“Ah!” said the friar. “I know exactly what you mean. Well, so, come with me, Romeo. There may be something in this. You are young, but not too young, I suppose. And a marriage might solve the terrible hatred between your Montagues and her Capulets. Yes, yes. Let's talk.…”

He drew Romeo off into his hut.

“Ah, yes,” said Frankie with a smile. “Old Friar Laurence, the wedding planner—”

There was, behind us, a sudden rustle of leaves and crackle of branches.

“Uh-oh,” I said. “Someone's coming.”

Frankie whirled around. “Not bad guys with swords and looks on their faces that say ‘get Devin and Frankie'?”

Actually, it turned out to be Juliet's nurse.

“Romeo!” she shouted, huffing and puffing. “Boy!”

Leaving the friar inside, Romeo came out of the hut.

“A word with you, Romeo,” said the nurse, catching her breath. “My young lady bade me find you.”

“I have been waiting for her message,” said Romeo. “What does she say?”

“I'll tell you in a moment,” the nurse replied. “But first, let me say this.” She put on a harsh expression. “If you hurt my Juliet, it would be a terrible thing. She is young and gentle and I care for her and I will not forget a terrible hurt to her.”

“I care for her, too,” said Romeo. “With all my heart.”

The nurse breathed in deeply, then nodded. “Good. I will tell her that.”

“And tell her this,” said Romeo. “To come this afternoon to Friar Laurence's cell … to be married.”

“Married?” she gasped. “Oh, truly?”

“Truly,” said Frankie with a grin. “He's serious.”

I nodded. “In fact, he even hired Friar Laurence to plan the wedding. It'll be this afternoon.”

Well, the nurse smiled so big that her grin just about met behind her ears. “Juliet shall be there!” she said.

“And after dark tonight,” said Romeo, “I will arrange to visit her at her house. Her family will not see me.”

“And Frankie and I will be lookouts,” I said. “Tybalt is, like, everywhere. Plus, if Mr. Capulet sees you, he won't exactly throw a party for you, either.”

“Throw a sword, maybe,” said Frankie.

“And another thing,” I said. “Unless you plan to spend the rest of the day practicing the high jump, maybe you should think about bringing some kind of ladder to get over the wall and up the balcony.”

“Good point,” said Frankie. “And if we keep following you around, I want an easier way up that wall.”

Romeo's eyes lit up. “Splendid idea, my friends. Find a rope ladder and set it up in Juliet's garden for tonight.”

“Just the thing!” said the nurse. “I shall tell Juliet what we have said here. But sir, you must know that the nobleman, Paris, has asked for Juliet's hand in marriage. He will not like this. Neither will Juliet's cousin Tybalt.”

Romeo smiled, but his thoughts were somewhere else. “Thank you for the warning. Now, give my love to thy lady. We meet later.”

“A thousand times, sir!” she said, and hustled back down the dusty road toward the city gates.

As Romeo headed back into the Friar's hut, Frankie turned to me. “Dev, it looks like the scene is ending. What do you want to do?”

“How about we go find a ladder?” I said. “I mean, it's strange, but Romeo and Juliet seem to like us and trust us. We actually seem to have a real part in this play.”

“Just like Mr. Wexler wanted,” said Frankie. “Let's go find a ladder!”

So, as best we could in our funny clothes, we raced each other back to the city.

Chapter 9

It was amazingly easy to find a rope ladder.

There was one just sitting in a pile of trash behind a row of shops. It was as if we were meant to find it.

The ladder was not in great shape, but we figured it would hold our weight the next time we hauled ourselves over that garden wall.

After that, Frankie and I got totally lost.

The streets of Verona snaked around here and there and crisscrossed like a spiderweb. Trying to find our way back to the Capulet house, Frankie and I felt like mice in a maze.

Luckily, we met our old friends Benvolio and Mercutio on the way.

“Hey, dudes!” I said. “Are we glad to see you!”

“Ah, Frankie and Devin,” said Mercutio. “Have you seen our elusive friend Romeo?”

I glanced at Frankie. I wasn't sure whether these guys were supposed to know about Romeo and Juliet yet.

“Um … maybe,” I said.

“He left us high and dry last night,” said Benvolio. “And so he probably doesn't know that Tybalt—”

“Tybalt,” Mercutio interrupted, “that angry prince of cats—”

“What about Tybalt?” asked Frankie.

“He has sent a challenge to Montague,” said Benvolio. “He says he wants to duel Romeo.”

I nearly fell over. “A duel? As in a fight?”

“With sharp and pointed blades,” said Mercutio. “Tybalt is angry with Romeo for breaking into the Capulet party last night and dancing with his cousin Juliet.”

I wondered how mad Tybalt would be if he knew that Romeo was planning to
marry
his cousin Juliet?

It was almost funny.

But not quite.

“Tybalt is a master swordsman,” said Mercutio. “I wouldn't want to tangle with him. If you see young Romeo before we do, tell him to see his father. He can give him the message.”

Benvolio nodded. “Now come, Mercutio, let us leave this place. Devin, Frankie, be safe!”

The two men slid off into a side street and were gone.

“Devin, I feel very weird just now.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “I think these tights are shrinking. My toes hurt way bad.”

“Not that,” she said. “I feel weird because we have this huge secret and can't tell anybody. I really don't want to take sides in this thing.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “It's strange how we're totally in the middle. We're like the only friends of both Romeo and Juliet. Anyway, come on. Let's get this ladder to Juliet's house. It must be getting late.”

We wandered once more through the narrow streets until we found ourselves in front of the Capulet mansion. By the smell of it, it was about lunchtime. I'm pretty sure I smelled those meatballs Italy is so famous for.

As we scurried around the back to the garden wall to test out the ladder, we found Juliet in her usual spot on the balcony. She looked like she was getting ready to do one of those long talking-to-herself speeches.

When no one was looking, Frankie tossed the ladder over the outer wall. We climbed over the top and into the garden, then flung the ladder up on to the balcony.

“Oh! Frankie! Devin!” said Juliet. “The clock struck nine when I sent the nurse, and she's not back yet!”

Frankie pulled herself up to the balcony. “Maybe she got lost? We did.”

“Plus she's a slow walker,” I said, coming up after.

“The messengers of love should be swift!” said Juliet, “not lumbering like an old mule. From nine till noon is three long hours! What if she never comes? Oh, I shall die on my balcony waiting forever for her—”

At that moment, the plodding steps of her nurse echoed up the inside stairs to her room. She came in huffing and puffing. “Oh, my, oh, dear—”

“Nurse!” cried Juliet, rushing to her. “What news do you bring?”

“Well, I—”

Juliet gasped. “You look sad. Is there sad news?”

“No, no …”

“Romeo does not love me?”

“It's not that.…”

“He is dead! Oh, my dear, dead Romeo—”

“Juliet!” shouted the nurse. “I'm tired! It makes my bones ache!” She huffed and puffed some more.

Juliet gave her a look. “I wish you had my bones and I had your news. Speak, good nurse, speak. Speak!”

“I can't speak!” she said. “I am too out of breath!”

I laughed. “How can you say you're out of breath when you have enough breath to say you're out of breath?”

The nurse gave me a piercing look. “Should you not fetch that rope ladder?”

“We already got it,” I said. Then I buttoned my lip.

Meanwhile, Juliet was pacing faster and faster across the balcony. It was like watching a tennis game with only one player, who was rushing to hit the ball on both sides of the net. Finally, she stopped and stared at the nurse. “What does Romeo say of our marriage?”

“Oh, my head aches!” said the nurse.

“Romeo says his head aches?” said Juliet.

“If he heard this conversation he might,” I whispered to Frankie. “Can't the nurse just come out with it?”

She chuckled. “Not according to the play. She keeps Juliet wondering for a long time.”

“But what does Romeo say!” Juliet demanded finally.

The nurse took a deep breath. “Like an honest gentleman, and a courteous and kind and handsome gentleman, he says … wait … where is your mother?”

“Where is my mother?” Juliet repeated. “Why does Romeo want to know where my mother is? She's inside where she should be—what did Romeo say?”

The nurse breathed out heavily. “Well, then, now. He says to go to Friar Laurence's little cell, which is quite small and could use some tidying up, if you ask me—”

“Out with it, lady, or Devin and I will tell her!” Frankie yelled.

The nurse blinked. “Fine, then. Romeo says to go to Friar Laurence's cell this afternoon.”

“And?”

“And Romeo will be there.”

Juliet grunted. “And?”

“And … he'll be your husband and you will be his wife—”

“Yay!” shouted Frankie. “She got the message out!”

The nurse smiled. “Now, go test that ladder, so that later, Romeo can climb up to see his new bride. For now, Juliet, go must you quickly to the friar's cell—”

Zoom!
Juliet was out of there in a flash.

The breeze from her leaving caused the book to flip to the next page. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“What's going on?” I said.

Frankie glanced at the page. “Whoa! Hurry, Devin!”

“What?”

“Time passed. We'll miss the big wedding!”

She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back down the rope ladder. We raced after Juliet through the streets, and around corners, following her pink heels.

“Man, can she run,” I said, breathlessly.

“It's the love thing,” added Frankie, huffing and puffing in her long dress.

As we raced through the gates, I caught sight of Benvolio and Mercutio again. It looked like they had too much lunch or something and it wasn't agreeing with them. Mercutio was looking especially sour.

“Keep going,” said Frankie. “This scene doesn't involve them.”

Just as we hurried out the gates, I heard the sharp sound of breaking glass.

“Frankie, I'm worried,” I said, racing down the dusty road to Friar Laurence's place. “I mean, Romeo and Juliet getting together is nice and all, but all these guys with swords are really starting to bother me—”

“No time for that now—wedding—wedding!”

And it was.

By the time we spotted the little stone hut, Friar Laurence was in the garden holding the pair by the hands. “Ah, witnesses!” he said when he saw us.

“Witnesses to trouble brewing in town,” I said. “I think we'd better hurry this whole thing along.”

“Yes,” said Friar Laurence. He turned to Romeo and Juliet. “I, too, worry that we will be discovered.”