The Mercutio Problem

by Carol Anne Douglas

  “Hope I don’t get et by those red kites,” said a passing beggar, shaking his head.

  Beth put her hand over her mouth. She wanted to get as far away as possible because the boys were probably pursuing her. Shakespeare lived in London, but so did danger. Ordinary danger, not magical danger. The people in London were real, so they could hurt her. Or even kill her. Or Sita.

  Beth opened her eyes in her bedroom. Her side ached. She pulled up her shirt and saw a large bruise. She felt her ribs. None of them were broken. That was good, because she had no idea how she could have explained the injury to her mother. Beth flopped down on her bed to rest.

  What was Sita doing? Beth wondered. Why hadn’t Sita told her about having the power to time travel? Was Sita also working against Richard? She must be.

  The landline phone in the living room rang. Beth dragged herself down the stairs to answer it. She wished she was using her smartphone and didn’t have to go far to talk.

  “Are you all right?” Sita asked.

  “Just bruised.” It was so good to tell someone. “Would you mind telling me how you got there?”

  “Not now. My little sister might listen in. See you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  Beth hung up. A hard day. And now, geometry homework. She wished that the street boys of London had to do homework, too. Their lives must be bleak, with no prospect for advancement, but she felt little tenderness toward them anyway.

  “HONEY, I’M HOME,” Beth’s mother called out.

  There still was a normal world to return to, Beth thought with relief. She walked downstairs and gave her mother a cursory hug—anything more intense might have seemed suspicious.

  “I’m feeling lazy, so I got a pizza,” her mother said.

  “Pizza would be great. I’m starving. I’ve got some vegetables ready to sauté after we eat pizza.”

  They both sat at the table and opened the pizza box.

  “Mushrooms and pineapple! Thanks, Mom.” Beth grabbed a slice. “Don’t you miss having pepperoni? It would be OK if you had that on your half sometimes.” She bit into the pizza and felt intense pleasure. Talk about comfort food.

  “Sometime I will.” Her mother took a bite. She scrutinized Beth. “You’re looking just as stressed as you did when you took that seminar on Shakespeare. Are you working too hard? Or is something else troubling you?”

  Beth chewed longer than she needed to. Time for the big lie. “Nothing’s troubling me, except geometry. I can’t wait ’til I finish math for good.”

  Her mother continued scrutinizing her. “Are you sure that’s all it is? When you came downstairs, it looked as if you were in pain. And you’ve been preoccupied.”

  “I got a little sore in gym class. It’s nothing to worry about.” Beth fished for an excuse. Earlier in the winter, Ms. Capulet had told Beth’s mother than Beth was grieving because a boy she liked had been killed in an accident. The drama teacher had glossed over the point that the guy was Mercutio and that Richard III had him killed in front of Beth. “Remember the boy who died a couple of months ago?” Beth hung down her head so her mother wouldn’t see that this explanation was only partly true. “I guess I’m thinking more about him.”

  “Oh, honey.” Her mother took her hand. “I should have realized that was the problem. Do you want to see a grief counselor?”

  Beth gulped. Not a counselor she would have to deceive. “No thanks. I’ll be all right. I just think about him sometimes.”

  Her mother persisted. “It might be good to talk about him. You’ve been deeply affected. It’s better to talk about your pain instead of holding it in.”

  “I talk about him with Sita. She met him, so she understands.” Beth evaded her mother’s attempts to look into her eyes.

  “Sita is a good friend, but she isn’t trained in dealing with grief. I can easily find a good counselor. Just try one session, honey.”

  “Please, Mom.” Beth took another piece of pizza. She managed to smile. “I’m going to be okay. I’ll think about what you said and let you know if I want to see a grief counselor.”

  “All right.” Her mother patted Beth’s arm, then took another piece of pizza. “But please think about it. I want you to be happy.”

  “I know you do. Thank you.” Beth bit into the pizza and savored the extra cheese. She thought she was just as happy as she could be for someone who was preparing to be killed in another world.

  Chapter 18

  BETH DIDN’T SEE SITA before rehearsal the next day. They had a scene together, where Feste and Viola meet in Olivia’s garden. When Beth said, “I saw thee late at Count Orsino’s,” she paused before saying “Count Orsino’s” to give the line extra meaning.

  Sita grinned as she said, “Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.”

  Beth gave her a look that said, you bet it does.

  When they had finished that scene, Ms. Capulet said, “Let’s rehearse the scene where Malvolio is trapped in the cellar. I wish this stage had trapdoors. That would make it so much easier to stage the scene.” She stared at the stage as if a trapdoor might suddenly appear. “We’ll have to use scenery to hide him instead. Frank, get behind that wall, and try to sound as if you were in a dark hole.”

  “I will, despite my objections to using the word ‘dark’ as a pejorative.” Frank grinned.

  Sita and Kevin came to center stage and taunted him. As Feste, Sita called herself Sir Topas, and spoke to him.

  “Never was man thus wronged,” moaned Frank. “They have laid me here in hideous darkness.”

  The scene continued. “Sayest thou that house is dark?” Sita asked.

  “As hell, Sir Topas,” Frank’s voice was a strangled cry, even more desperate than Beth had expected.

  “I really am in a dark hole!” he called out. “Help! What happened?”

  “That’s not in the script,” Amelia said from the wings.

  Sita stared at Kevin. Beth’s chest muscles tightened.

  “I’m in a pit! Is there a pit under the building? Get me out!” Frank cried.

  “Hang in there,” Ms. Capulet told him. “We’ll get you out as soon as we can.” She looked at Beth.

  “Merlin,” Beth whispered. “Help!”

  A white-bearded man dressed like a janitor walked through the auditorium and behind the stage.

  Frank staggered out from behind the scenery. “What happened? Is the building falling apart?” He wiped his forehead.

  “It isn’t,” Ms. Capulet said. “Let’s take a break, everyone. Frank, would you like something cold to drink?”

  Beth reached into a cooler of soft drinks that the teacher had provided for breaks and brought Frank a ginger ale because she had seen him drink them often.

  He sat down on the stairs leading to the stage, took the drink, and gulped it down.

  “Are you all right?” Sita asked him.

  Frank glared at the group. “No one wanted me to play Malvolio. Is this some idiot’s idea of a joke? I could have been injured. I didn’t believe that this could happen at James Dean. My father warned me about things like this. Who’s out to get me?” He looked from person to person. “Was it you, Kevin? You’re the one who almost dropped the lights on Beth.”

  “No, man, I wouldn’t do a thing like that.” Kevin looked as if he also wanted to sink through the floor.

  Beth realized they all had guilty expressions on their faces because they could guess what had happened.

  Ms. Capulet approached Frank. “I’m sorry this happened, but no one here is out to get you.”

  “You had to know.” He looked at her sorrowfully. “How could anyone have done that without your knowledge? I never dreamed you’d participate in a thing like that.”

  “You don’t know what a ‘thing like that’ is.” Ms. Capulet tried to reassure h
im. “Come to my office, and I’ll explain. Beth and Sita, you come too.”

  “You can’t tell him!” Beth exclaimed.

  “Beth, I am not going to have my theater class charged with perpetrating a racist attack.” The teacher pursed her lips. “I have to tell. Come along.”

  They went to the drama teacher’s office.

  Frank sat down. Beth and Sita remained standing.

  Ms. Capulet removed a stack of books from her chair and settled in it. “I know you will find it difficult to believe me, but this incident falls rather into the realm of the supernatural.”

  Frank gave her a disgusted look. “A poltergeist at James Dean High School? Give me a break. Can’t you think up anything better?”

  “It’s not a poltergeist,” the teacher said. “How did you get out of the hole?” she asked.

  “A janitor who looked too old to be working pulled me out. I don’t know how he got the strength.” Frank shook his head.

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe that he was Merlin?” Ms. Capulet asked.

  “Merlin the magician? That’s crazy.” Frank gave her a disgusted look. “Why don’t you tell me the truth? Are you afraid my father will sue? He’ll tell the school board.”

  Sita leaned towards Frank. “You’ve known me a while. I hope you don’t think I’d participate in a racist incident. Frank, it really was Merlin. You were attacked by Richard III.”

  “Come off it,” Frank said.

  Ms. Capulet frowned. “Merlin, it’s time,” she intoned.

  A white-bearded man in a janitor’s uniform came in.

  “You are being tedious, Frank,” the old man said. “Do you remember me?”

  “You’re the one who pulled me out of that weird hole.” Frank smiled at him. “Then you disappeared before I had a chance to thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “Your thanks are accepted.” Merlin nodded. “To say that I disappeared is precisely accurate. I did not walk away, I vanished. And you were not in any normal hole created by human hands. You were taken to an evil place out of this world. I saved you because I am Merlin.”

  Frank shook his head. “This isn’t happening.”

  “Of course it is.” Merlin sharpened his voice. “I seldom appear to mortals, and I hope that you are worthy of my effort. Even though I saved you, no doubt I have to do more to prove my identity.”

  Frank, Beth, and Merlin stood on a muddy ground where knights in armor and on horseback rushed at other knights. Abruptly, they were back in the classroom.

  “That’s the short version,” Merlin said. “Are you going to demand a longer one?”

  Frank’s eyes were wide as saucers. “No, I’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. I guess I believe you.” He kept staring at Merlin. “What the hell is this all about?”

  “In brief,” Merlin said in his usual superior tone, “Beth has been time traveling to Shakespeare’s London and the worlds of Shakespeare’s characters on a mission for me. Richard III is trying to take over and alter Shakespeare’s plays. He can’t injure her because she is a human being, not a character like him. But he can frighten her. That idiot, Kevin, had a dream about Richard and decided it would be clever to agree to be Richard’s agent so he could spy on Richard. Richard is using him without his knowledge to make trouble in Beth’s world. Kevin can’t undo that pact as easily as he got into it. Do you understand?”

  “O-okay,” Frank drawled. “More things in heaven and earth, Horatio. A lot more.”

  “Precisely,” the wizard said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” his voice was heavy with sarcasm as usual, “I have other things to do.”

  “I’m not sure you do have other things to do,” Beth said. She was still annoyed at Merlin. “You’re focused on this mission, and I doubt that there are any others that are as important to you.”

  “Talking tough to impress your friend, are you?” Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “You are not impressing me.”

  Frank shook his head. “You’re right that I can’t tell anyone about this, or I’d be taken to drug counseling before the words were out of my mouth.” He turned to Beth. “So you’re on a mission to save Shakespeare’s plays?”

  She nodded.

  “Count me in if I can do anything to help,” Frank said.

  “There are already too many teens involved in this mission.” Merlin frowned. “It’s dangerous. I don’t want to have to keep rescuing them. Beth is the only one I authorized.” He stomped out of the office.

  Beth wondered, not for the first time, whether Merlin’s thinking was racist, but she hesitated to challenge the one thousand year-old wizard. She was feeling overwhelmed by dealing with Richard anyway, and didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. “It really is dangerous,” Beth told Frank. “Please don’t let that make it sound more appealing to you. I’m just stumbling along trying to figure out whether I’m doing the right thing, and so is anyone else who gets involved, or tries to.”

  “Let me know if you want me to stumble with you.” Frank said. He smiled at her.

  Beth smiled back.

  “I’m glad that is settled,” the teacher said. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s rehearsal, Frank.”

  “You bet,” he said, and left.

  “I need you girls to stay a few more minutes.” Ms. Capulet turned to Beth and Sita. “You seemed to be giving each other some private message while you read your lines. That must not happen in a rehearsal.”

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said.

  “It won’t happen again,” Sita added.

  Beth groaned and dropped into a chair. “I know what I have to do,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, but it might be best.” Ms. Capulet shuffled through her papers as if denying responsibility.

  Beth thought of Richard. Her stomach protested. She felt as if she were hurtling through a chamber of pins sticking into her head.

  “Greetings, dear Beth,” Richard said.

  Beth shook her head in an attempt to banish the pain. The many mirrors on the walls of Richard’s hall gleamed into her eyes as if she were staring at the sun. Somehow she had managed to get there in her own body, not Mercutio’s.

  “The sun of York,” Richard said, chuckling.

  “Stop attacking my classmates,” Beth demanded.

  “Please, address me in a manner befitting my station.” He continued to project false joviality.

  Beth inclined her head. “Your majesty, I humbly request that you refrain from attacking my classmates.” Her tone mimicked his.

  “You are leading a conspiracy against me, but you expect me to refrain from hurting your friends?” Richard shook his head. “That’s hardly likely, is it?”

  “You started attacking my friends long before I began working against you,” Beth said. There was no use pretending that she wasn’t working against him. They both knew she was, and knew why.

  “Poor Kevin,” Richard drawled. He wiped an imaginary tear from his check. “It must be so painful for Kevin to know that I’m using his brain to enter your world and do damage. You would show more concern for your friends if you stopped plotting against me.”

  Beth felt herself redden with anger. “Don’t you know that Mordred is using you? You should drive him out. He’s not helping you.”

  Richard’s laugh was nastier than ever. “Destroy the better part of myself? You truly are a child if you believe I would do that. Give up, Beth. You are on the wrong side of history. The tide is turning against you and your cohorts. You don’t belong in my world, and you can’t change it.”

  “Thank you so much for your advice.” Arguing with him was useless. She wondered why she had tried.

  “Look into my mirrors before you leave, dear girl.” He gestured towards the mirrors.

  In one mirror she saw Iago, making a mock bow.

  In the next mirror she saw
Lear, who looked angry enough to charge through the mirror and attack her.

  In the third mirror, she saw Bottom, smiling and bowing.

  Beth gasped. She tried to see what his background was so she could determine which play Richard had placed him in. But the background blurred and Bottom disappeared.

  “I do not comprehend your fondness for that clown,” Richard said. “But it is your attachment to him that has prompted me to move him away from his original world. Any suffering caused by that is your fault. Repent, and save Bottom, or who knows what might happen to him?”

  “Do you think I’m foolish enough to believe a word you say?” Beth raised her voice as loud as it could go without shouting. “You wouldn’t release him, no matter what I did. I’ll have to find him and free him myself.”

  “Always so self-reliant, aren’t you?” Richard picked up a sweet and nibbled it. “What a tedious quality in a girl.”

  “Good-bye.” Beth wished herself away.

  She slumped in her chair in Ms. Capulet’s office. Fortunately, her teacher kept soft drinks there, too, and gave her a ginger ale. Beth drained it.

  Sita squeezed her hand.

  “No luck, of course.” Beth could barely speak the words.

  “I have to go now. I have Advanced Placement Spanish.” Sita rose and moved to the door.

  “Let’s walk home together later,” Beth called after her.

  “Okay,” Sita said and was gone.

  “I’m too tired to talk,” Beth told her teacher.

  “Take another drink with you,” Ms. Capulet said, offering Beth an orange soda.

  Beth gulped it down greedily. She wondered whether it had the same magical properties as orange juice.

  “If you see Arnie, please tell him to come to my office,” the teacher said. “I’m going to have to ask him to keep an eye on Kevin. They’re good friends, aren’t they?”

  “Yes. Good idea,” Beth said.

  She could hardly wait for the school day to end. She lurked by the entrance in case Sita tried to avoid her. Kids eager to leave school hurried past Beth. Some of them chatted and laughed. A few members of the chorus sang a song she didn’t know. One of the girls in her geometry class stopped to ask how Beth did in the last test. Beth shrugged. She wasn’t sure.