Holly's Jolly Christmas (6 page)

“That’s so nice,” Katie said. “What did he give you?”

For the first time, Holly cracked a smile. A genuine, happy smile. “You’re not going to believe this,” she told Katie. “He gave me a Christmas tree. How funny is that? What would make him think that after a whole day of working here, I’d want to come home to a tree?”

Katie laughed. Holly couldn’t fool her. She might sound tough, but her smile said it all. Holly liked coming home to that tree very, very much.

“Katie, don’t use so much paint,” Suzanne scolded, as she walked over to look at the scenery.

Katie shook her head. She was getting tired of Suzanne bossing people around. She’d been hearing her order people around all morning. They had to sing louder, dance in a straighter line, and even stay away from the donuts at the snack table. Katie had had enough.

“I’m using just the right amount of paint,” Katie snapped back. “These trees look great!”

Suzanne glared at Katie. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m the stage manager.”

“The
student
stage manager,” Katie reminded her. “Mr. Porter is the real stage manager.”

“I’m real, too!” Suzanne shouted. She stomped away angrily.

“A real
pain
,” Katie murmured under her breath. She put some more green paint on her brush and went back to work.

It took a few minutes, but soon Katie was feeling happier again. It was hard to stay upset for too long, especially when the cast was rehearsing the songs. All of the music was so happy.

“Trains, and trucks, and a baby doll,” they sang. “There are children who would love us all.”

Their voices sounded so cheerful. And they blended so nicely together. Until suddenly, someone hit a real clinker of a note.

“Suzanne!” Mr. Porter shouted out. “You’re not supposed to be singing along.”

“I just thought the song needed to be louder and have more voices,” Suzanne told him.

“Not your voice,” Mr. Porter told her.

Katie bit her lip and tried not to laugh.

“I mean, um, I mean, stage managers don’t sing. We manage,” Mr. Porter explained.

“Oh, right,” Suzanne said. She sounded a little disappointed. “What do you want me to manage now?”

“How about standing backstage and handing cups of water to the dancers in between songs?” Mr. Porter suggested.

“That doesn’t sound very important,” Suzanne told him.

“Oh, it is,” Mr. Porter assured her. “The dancers can’t do their best if they’re thirsty.”

“That’s true,” Suzanne said.

As Suzanne hurried off for the water and plastic cups, Mr. Porter walked over to Katie and some of the others.

“That tree looks great!” he complimented Katie.

“Thanks,” Katie said. “I’ve been working on the scenery all morning. It’s almost finished.”

“And just in time,” Mr. Porter said. “The show opens in three days.”

“Are you going to be ready?” Katie asked him.

“I hope so,” Mr. Porter said with a smile.

At that moment, Suzanne came running across the stage with the pitcher of water in her hands.

“Watch out, stage manager coming through,” she shouted. “This water is heavy . . . whoaaaaa!”

Suzanne tripped over a large box onstage. The pitcher slipped out of her hands. Water spilled everywhere.

“Who left that box there?” Suzanne demanded as she stood in the middle of the big puddle of water.

“I did,” Mr. Newman, the director, shouted. He came bounding up toward the stage. “It’s supposed to be there. It’s the jack-in-the-box.”

“Oh, sorry,” Suzanne said. “I didn’t see it.”

“Obviously,” Mr. Newman said. “And now you’ve ruined it. The cardboard is sopping wet.”

Katie looked at Mr. Newman. Then she looked at Mr. Porter. They both seemed really angry with Suzanne.

Katie felt really bad for her friend. She hadn’t meant to mess up. It had just been an accident.

“I’m almost done with this tree,” Katie shouted out suddenly. “If you can find another box, I can paint it really quickly.”

“Great, Katie!” Mr. Porter said. Then he turned to Suzanne. “Why don’t you go get some paper towels and dry up the stage? We don’t want anyone else falling here today.”

“Yes, sir,” Suzanne said meekly.

Katie grabbed her paintbrush and hurried to put the finishing strokes on her Christmas tree. As Suzanne walked by, she gave her friend an encouraging smile.

“Are you okay?” Katie asked Suzanne.

“Of course I’m okay,” Suzanne told her. “It was just a little water.”

“I know, it’s just that Mr. Newman is kind of scary.”

Suzanne shrugged. “He’s not so bad.” Then she looked at the tree Katie was painting. “You’d better get back to work,” she ordered. “You’ve got a lot to do. Mr. Newman and Mr. Porter will want that tree and the jack-in-the-box completely painted before we leave today.”

Grrrr
. Now Katie was really mad. She had volunteered to help Suzanne out of a big mess, and now Suzanne was bossing her around. For a minute, Katie thought about putting down her brush and walking out of there. Let Suzanne paint the jack-in-the-box.

But Katie couldn’t do that. Suzanne wasn’t a very talented artist. She probably wouldn’t do a very good job. And it was important that the scenery look good. After all, Katie wasn’t doing this for Suzanne. She was doing this for the play. She had to keep painting. But that didn’t mean she had to keep listening to Suzanne.

“You go clean up your mess,” Katie told her. “And leave the painting to me. I know what I’m doing.”

“So, how is the play going down at the Community Center?” Jeremy asked Katie. It was late Saturday afternoon. Katie had come to Jeremy’s house to help him celebrate the first night of Hanukkah.

“Well, Suzanne was there . . .” Katie began.

Jeremy laughed. “That’s all you have to say.”

“Totally. You should have seen her. She . . .” Katie began. Then she stopped herself. This was the holiday season. It was a time to be nice. “Well, she’s trying,” she added quickly. “It’s a tough job.”

“How does your scenery look?” Jeremy asked Katie.

“I think it’s pretty good, actually,” Katie said. “I have to go back tomorrow and finish up a few things on the last Christmas tree.”

“You’re a good artist,” Jeremy told her. “Suzanne’s really lucky to have you helping out with the play.”

“Thanks,” Katie said.

She sat down on the couch and looked around Jeremy’s living room. There was a blue and silver banner hanging across the wall that said “Happy Hanukkah.” A silver menorah had been placed near the window. It had two candles in it.

“I thought this was the
first
night of Hanukkah,” she said.

“It is,” Jeremy told her. “The candle in the middle is the
shemash
, the helper candle. We use it to light the other ones.”

“Oh. I forgot. I haven’t done this since last year when I came over for Hanukkah,” Katie said. “Are we going to play that game tonight? The one with the top and the chocolate candies?”

“Definitely,” Jeremy answered. “We always play the dreidel game on Hanukkah.”

“You’re so lucky that your holiday starts tonight,” Katie said, with more than a touch of jealousy. “I have to wait until Thursday night for Christmas Eve. All those presents are sitting there under the tree, just waiting for me. And all I can do is stare at them.”

Jeremy nodded. “I know what you mean. My parents have wrapped all of my gifts for the whole eight days of Hanukkah. They’re sitting in the basement on the ping-pong table. I really want to just take a peek at one or two of them.”

“Don’t you dare,” Mrs. Fox said, as she entered the room. She had a big smile on her face. “That will ruin the surprise. Now, are you two ready to light the menorah and get this holiday started?”

“Oh yeah!” Jeremy cheered. “Where’s Dad?”

“Right here,” Mr. Fox said, as he came up the stairs from the basement. “I was just getting your first present.”

“Okay, are we ready?” Mrs. Fox asked the kids.

Katie and Jeremy nodded. Then Katie watched as Mrs. Fox used the
shemash
to light the candle on the end of the menorah—the one that was for the first night.

While she lit the candle, Jeremy said a prayer in Hebrew.

“I didn’t know you could speak Hebrew,” Katie said to him.