But Mrs. Fanna finally managed to pull herself together and start the meeting. The first thing she did, of course, was introduce our acting principal. Mr. Dorking then stood up and said a few words. A very few words. The fewest possible words he could get away with, because Miss Tuna wasn’t sitting up there at the front table to prompt him. But for all it mattered to the ladies in the audience, he could have been up there reciting “Hey Diddle Diddle the Cat and the Fiddle” instead of announcing how happy he was to be at the meeting of the Pepperdine Elementary School PTA. There was a general breeze in the auditorium as all the ladies started fanning themselves with their programs.
I was amazed at how much business finally got conducted despite all this. I couldn’t help wondering, though, how things would have gone if it had been known that a witch and a warlock were present, which naturally is not usual for a PTA meeting. Anyway, they got through such matters as fixing the swings, repairing leaky faucets, painting the playground equipment, including the monkey bars, and other things equally fascinating before the meeting ended. The ladies all then clustered around Mr. Dorking as the men made a dive for the punch and cookies.
Miss Blossom quickly herded us behind the stage curtain. I ducked into the janitor’s broom closet, removed my jeans and sweatshirt, and threw on my cape and shower cap. I braced myself for the clever remarks I’d get when I reappeared, but there weren’t any Everyone was too busy gulping down cookies and punch in small paper cups that Miss Tuna had delivered to the stage. I was really grateful for the punch, as I needed it to oil my tonsils, which had gone very dry.
Then the sixth-grade make-believe audience climbed onto their make-believe theater benches. Juliet, aka Jessica Poole, climbed up the make-believe balcony, a ladder draped in a sheet painted with green leaves and roses. I, Romeo, aka Rupert P Brown III, stood surrounded by some artificial potted palms, poised to climb a short ladder in front of it. The orchestra began playing the unrecognizable piece they’d been rehearsing. Then the curtain was pulled.
My heart now began racing a mile a minute as I waited for something terrible to happen. I mean witchcraftwise, not actingwise. Only nothing did. I could see Miss Blossom hovering in the wings, but Mr. Dorking wasn’t hovering at all. He was just sitting in the audience with a vacant look on his face, watching the proceedings. It began to look as if Miss Switch and I had guessed all wrong, and nothing was going to happen after all. It was some other play Saturna was talking about. But at that moment, I had to concentrate on being the great actor. The applause died down, and Romeo was up to bat.
I began to speak. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!”
Or at least that’s what I thought I was saying. Those were the words I’d rehearsed. Those were the words that had left my brain cells and traveled to my mouth. But what actually came out was the following:
“What’s the big deal up there at the window? Is that you, Julie, baby? Come on out. Don’t be such a shrinking violet. Let your big hero have a look at you.”
Juliet shook her head as if she’d just dreamed what she heard, and needed to wake up. Then she began her speech. “Romeo, Dodeo, where are you, you big wimp! Why don’t you tell Daddy where to get off? Go get your name changed, you dummy I might consider changing mine, but I’d better have something in writing about your great feelings for me. Don’t think just swearing is going to do you any good.”
By now I was getting a distinct feeling about what was happening. Jessica wasn’t, of course, and I saw her clutching the ladder to keep from falling when she heard what was coming out of her mouth. Now, it was clear to me that all this was Saturna at work. But, it somehow didn’t relate to those scare words in her so-called poetry. Was this as bad as it was going to get, just making us look ridiculous in front of the PTA? Well, I couldn’t stop to consult with Miss Blossom about it, so I just charged on.
“Am I going to have to listen to more of this drivel?” I shouted.
“If you want me, you’re going to have to,” Juliet shouted back. “Some things have got to be straightened out. If changing a name does it, then that’s what we’ll have to do. Personally, I don’t care. If you were a cabbage, you’d still smell like a cabbage.”
“Hey,” I said, “I didn’t come here to get insulted. I came here to woo.”
“Well, it’s my way, or no way So boo hoo to you,” said Juliet.
As we went on trading insults, the sixth-grade “audience” started shouting, and pelting us with crushed paper punch cups and chocolate chip cookies.
“You’re no hero, Romeo. You’re just a big old dodeo do!”
“You’re all wet, Juliet. You’ll never snag him—wanna bet?”
“Go get her, Romeo!”
“Go get him, Juliet!”
As Juliet and I ducked the flying paper cups, I could see that things were getting seriously out of hand. I didn’t dare look out into the PTA audience to see what they were thinking, especially my parents in the front row. I did look for Miss Blossom, but she had disappeared from her position in the wings. I couldn’t believe she would just leave her sixth grade to go for a little flight on her broomstick around the block, but where was she?
Then suddenly, there was Miss Blossom determinedly pulling on the curtain cords. As the curtains closed, everybody onstage froze for a few seconds. Then they all came
