'Jenny Baird.'
I didn't respond; it wasn't the name for which I was used to snapping to.
'Miss Baird.' Walker's voice could roll low like thunder. Shawna nudged me.
'Walker,' Brian said in a quiet voice, 'I spoke to you about Jenny, remember?'
Walker turned to Brian very slowly, demonstrating for all of us how an actor can make an audience wait for a line. 'I remember. Get up there, Miss Baird.'
I walked to the stage steps carrying my book.
'I can try out,' I told Walker, 'but I get terrible stage fright when it comes time for performance.'
'Act Two, Scene Two, after Puck has exited,' Walker replied, as if he hadn't heard a word I'd said.
Brian stared at him and shook his head.
'Helena,' Walker said to me when I was on stage, 'you've just come upon Lysander, who is sleeping. What you don't know is that Puck has put the magic ointment on his eyelids, and the first person Lysander sees-you, not his beloved Hermia-he will now be madly in love with. Not knowing what has happened, you think he's making fun of you. Pick it up on 'But who is here?'' We positioned ourselves, Mike on the stage floor and me bending over him. I began: 'But who is here? Lysander! on the ground?
Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake.'
Mike opened his eyes, then pulled himself up quickly, responding fervently: ' 'And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.' ' I blinked and drew back. The incredible blue of his eyes and the intensity with which he zeroed in on me made my heart jolt, made me feel as if I were on an elevator that had suddenly dropped from beneath me. All I could do was stare at him, surprised. Of course, the character of Helena would have reacted the same way. I wasn't acting, but I looked like I was.
' 'Transparent Helena,' ' Mike began softly, kneeling now, his eyes, his whole person focused on me, the way a lover's would be. My heart did strange flip-floppy things. I struggled to make sense of the instinctive way I responded to Mike; in the play, Helena struggled to make sense of Lysander.
I dutifully told Lysander why he should be happy with his Hermia.
' 'Content with Hermia?' ' Mike responded. ' 'No, I do repent the tedious minutes I have with her spent.' ' He reached out and touched my face. I tingled at the brush of his fingers and could feel my cheeks getting pink. Of course, Helena's cheeks would have reddened as she got increasingly angry at Lysander.
' 'Not Hermia, but Helena I love,'' Mike said. ' 'Who will not change a raven for a dove?' ' But I was the raven and Liza his dove, I wanted to say. I stood up quickly, feeling mixed up, caught between the play world and the real one. He gazed at me as if his eyes would hold and cherish what his hands could not. I reminded myself that this was acting.
At last he got to the end of his lines, and I pulled myself together. I was mad-mad at him for using his eyes and voice that way, madder at myself for being caught in their spell. Hadn't I seen a million actors deliver lines like that? Hadn't I fallen for not one, but two guys who were pretending to like me because they wanted to know Liza?
Just as anger was boiling up in me, it was bursting from poor Helena: ' 'Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?' ' I exclaimed-ironically, totally in character.
Finishing my speech, I exited quickly, exactly as Helena should have. In fact, I wanted to run back to my seat, but I figured that Walker, upon observing my flight, would make me stay and read some more. I stopped onstage about twenty feet from Mike, waiting to be dismissed by Walker.
He looked from Mike to me, then turned to Brian. 'Your new best friend doesn't seem all that shy,' he observed. 'I believe she has some talent.' 'I never said she didn't,' Brian replied coolly. 'You two are done,' Walker said to us. 'For now.' Mike headed for the steps stage left, I went stage right.
Lynne was called on to read as Hermia. She was so strong in the role she made the guy who played opposite her look good. Shawna tried out as Helena and Queen Titania, then Keri read for the queen's role opposite Paul as Oberon.
'No accents, Keri,' Walker told her halfway through. 'Save that lovely Jersey British for New York, where they can't tell the difference.'
Paul was destined to be Oberon, I thought. His face was handsome, a model's face, and yet there was something wasted about it. His green eyes had circles under them-right for a jealous and somewhat vengeful king of the fairies. His body was hard-wiry, like a rock star's, his hands strong and expressive, but too thin, a thinness that could suggest cruelty.
By lunch everyone had read but Tomas, the heavyset guy who had said he'd 'rather not.' I thought Walker was showing some heart, or perhaps knew better than to torture the guy who had provided the winning set design for the play. I was wrong.
'All right, Tomas,' Walker said as soon as we had gathered again, 'this is your big chance.'
Tomas was jolted out of what appeared to be the beginning of an afternoon nap.
'Get up there. You're Oberon.'
There was a snicker from the vets. If Tomas played any role, it would have to be one of the rustics; there was no way he was going to prance around the stage as if there were magic in his feet.
'Paul, you're Puck,' Walker said.
The contrast between the two guys was striking, and I wondered if Walker was pairing them up for his own amusement.
'Kimberly, you're Hermia.' A blond girl giggled and made her way to the stage.
'Mike, Demetrius again. Act Three, Scene Two,' Walker said, when the cast had assembled. 'Puck is reporting back to Oberon about how he fared with the magic ointment. Demetrius and Hermia enter, and it is discovered by Oberon and Puck that Puck got the wrong guy when he tried to fix things for the lovers. Got it? Take it from the top, Oberon. Oberon?'
Tomas was paging frantically through the book; the more quickly he tried to find the scene, the harder it became. Kimberly giggled annoyingly. Paul finally snatched the script and found the page. When he shoved the book back in Tomas's face, Mike walked over to the embarrassed boy, leaned close, and ran his finger down the page. 'You start here,' I heard him say quietly. 'Then Hermia and I enter-see? — and you don't say anything more until I lie down to sleep. Okay?'
Tomas nodded. Without waiting for Mike to get back in position, he began what had to be the most painful reading I'd ever witnessed. ' 'I wo-wonder if Titan be-' ' 'Titania!' Walker called out. 'She's a fairy, not a football team.' Kids laughed.
' '-if Titania be awak'd.' ' He didn't know how to pronounce the k'd and stumbled over it as if it were a piece of broken concrete. Kimberly, waiting for her entrance, rolled her eyes and made faces at her friends in the audience.
Fortunately, a long speech by Puck followed. Unfortunately, while Paul read, Tomas practiced his next few lines so intently, his lips moved and little whispery sounds came out. Paul paused halfway through his piece.
'Which one of us is talking here?' he asked, provoking more laughter.
Tomas continued to work on his lines, though silently now, with such focus that he missed his cue. 'Oberon!' Walker hollered.
Tomas looked up and promptly lost his place. When he found it again, his voice shook badly. He got through the last line before Mike and Kimberly's entrance, but he didn't look as if he were going to make it through the entire scene. As the dialogue ran back and forth between Mike and Kimberly, Tomas's face grew redder. He looked as if he was going to cry. Given his size and his bristly eyebrows, I knew it would be a terrible sight. He began blinking his eyes. He was never going to live this down.
'Excuse me.' I stood up. 'Excuse me.'
Mike, who had just finished a line, turned with surprise, as did everyone else.
'I'd like to play Puck if you don't mind.'
It was a strange request for a person with stage fright. Brian looked baffled. Maggie frowned at the
