“Excuse me, Miss Blossom,” I said, “but what’s the big idea of making me Romeo? How am I going to keep my nose to the ground, my eyes peeled, and my ears pricked if I can’t spend my time lurking around instead of standing on a ladder in front of everyone making an idiot of myself.”
“And just exactly where you should be!” said Miss Blossom.
“Excuse me again, Miss Blossom,” I said. “But are you referring to the idiot part, by any chance?”
“I don’t care to dignify that question with a reply, Rupert,” snapped Miss Blossom. “I was, of course, referring to your being in the play, which means being at every rehearsal without having to ‘lurk around’ to be there. What, pray tell, do you think Mr. Dorking, aka Grodork, even with his limited brain power, will think if he shows up at rehearsals and finds you ‘lurking around’?”
“But won’t Mr. Dorking get suspicious, anyway, when he gets a load of my acting talents, which don’t exist?” I asked. “I mean, considering my connection to—er—Miss Switch?”
“When I think of your performance at Witch’s Mountain putting that computowitch out of commission,” said Miss Blossom, “I have every confidence you’ll do just fine. Get Guinevere to work with you on this. I have a feeling she’s a guinea pig with talent as well as brains.”
Acting lessons from a guinea pig! This could have been funny under any other circumstances. But the consequences of my blowing this could be serious. It could wreck Miss Switch’s Miss Blossom cover if it didn’t appear as though I was chosen for the part for my great acting talents. I was going to have to put on a good performance no matter what. I just hoped Guinevere was up to the coaching job. I knew I was going to need all the help I could get!
11
No Clues to Anything
Actually, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. At first the boys were all calling me “Romeo” just as I figured they would. But when Peatmouse, Banana, and Creampuff reminded them that if anything happened to me one of them might get picked in my place, they quit. All except for Melvin Bothwick, who went on and on about it. Romeo-o-o. Romeo-do-do. Romeo, lay-ee-hoo. He wouldn’t let it alone. If you want to know my personal opinion, I think he wanted the part himself. But eventually, when he’d been told enough times by several boys to dry up, or cut it out, or go lay an egg, he finally gave up.
Then, once the flurry of tryouts was over with, even though the scene we were going to do couldn’t last more than a few minutes, Miss Blossom somehow managed to keep everyone busy It was amazing to me how such a small production required so many stage managers, costume consultants, set designers, and people in charge of props, not to mention doing double duty as “the audience” up onstage. Every sixth grader was made to feel that without his or her presence, the performance would be a flop. Of course, I could see the fine hand of Miss Switch behind the whole thing!
She even came up with the idea of having a musical introduction, so three sixth graders were kept occupied taking care of that. We had Harry Clipper on drums, Joanie Marks on the piano, and Billy Swanson on the harmonica. Music aside, it was my belief that this was a setup for Billy to have his mouth occupied so he couldn’t take time out to manufacture spitballs.
As for being Romeo, that turned out to be not too bad, either. Jessica Poole, who got the role of Juliet, wasn’t Spook, but rehearsals with her were actually kind of fun. On the home front, Guinevere was a good coach, just as Miss Blossom had said she would be. Of course, Caruso’s nose got put out of joint at not being asked to do the job, as he fancies himself quite the performer. But it got straightened right out again when Guinevere appointed him to play the role of Juliet. I’m not sure that Shakespeare ever envisioned a turtle in the part, but who am I to say? At any rate, all in all, things were going very smoothly. Except for two problems.
Mr. Dorking’s absence was problem number one. “I thought he’d be hovering around every chance he could get,” Miss Blossom said. “I haven’t seen him around once.”
“Heck, Miss Blossom,” I said. “If he hasn’t been hovering, I could have been lurking instead of being Romeo!”
“I haven’t noticed any suffering on your part, Rupert,” said Miss Blossom sharply. “You actually seem to be enjoying yourself. Furthermore, Guinevere’s efforts appear to be paying off. Your guinea pig should be proud of you, Rupert.”
“Thanks, Miss Blossom,” I said modestly. “And yes, she is. But do you really think I’m good enough to make Mr. Dorking think I got the part legitimately?”
“Oh, absolutely!” said Miss Blossom. “He won’t suspect a thing. That is, if he ever shows up. I’m beginning to get the terrible feeling that it won’t be until the actual performance at the PTA meeting. And we haven’t got a single clue as to what’s going to happen there. That blasted computowitch.com Web site of Satuma’s isn’t telling us a thing.”
And that, of course, was problem number two.
“So, what do you make of it all?” I asked.
“What I make of it,” replied Miss Blossom, “is that Saturna doesn’t have to tell her lamebrain brother anything because, amazingly enough, he is managing this on his own. And I now have to believe that whatever he has in mind is going to take place on the very night of the performance. It’s the worst possible situation.”
“And you still haven’t come up with any preventive measures, Miss Blossom?” I asked.
“Not a thing, Rupert,” said Miss Blossom. “And unless Mr. Dorking tips his hand
