The Mercutio Problem

by Carol Anne Douglas

  “I wanted to ask you something,” Beth began.

  “That’s fine if you’re talking about this world, not so fine if you’re talking about the other world,” Sita said. She played with the ends of her scarf, a beautiful concoction of multicolored strands of wool.

  “I’m worried that Amelia might be interested in me,” Beth confided. “She plays the part of Olivia so well. She really looks into my eyes. And she sometimes keeps it up after practice. I hope she doesn’t mean it seriously.”

  Sita frowned. “Don’t get so nervous. Amelia doesn’t want to date you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m dating her.” Sita looked directly into Beth’s eyes.

  Beth gasped. Then she thought, oh no, that was the wrong reaction. “Oh! I don’t mean that’s bad. I’m just so surprised. You never said anything about liking girls that way.” She felt hurt, as if she had been cheated. “You should have told me. I’m your best friend.” She hesitated. “Or maybe I’m not. Maybe Amelia is.” Yes, the pain in Beth’s chest told her, she was hurt. Jealous. She didn’t want to kiss Sita, but she had counted on being her best friend.

  “I don’t know who’s best,” Sita smiled. Not her Lady M smile, but a gentle one. “You’re a really good friend. We matter to each other. And she’s my girlfriend-type girlfriend. She’s great, too. I love you, and I’m in love with her.”

  Beth tried not to cry. “I love you, too. I’m attracted to boys, but I don’t feel as close to any of them as I do to you. Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you trust me to still be your friend?”

  “I trust you,” Sita said quietly. “I just didn’t want to talk about being lesbian to anyone for a while. But I thought you’d understand because of your mother.”

  Beth nodded. “Yes, she’s a lesbian, too. I didn’t know whether you realized it. She hasn’t dated anyone since I was a baby because she wanted to concentrate on being a mother, and on her work. But she told me long ago. I wonder whether she’s guessed about you?”

  Sita grinned. “I’m sure she has. Don’t worry, Beth. I’ll always be your friend, no matter whom I date. I hope that you and Amelia will be friends.”

  “Sure.” Beth was grateful for the arrival of the burgers. “I’ll try harder to be friendly. She seems nice.”

  “She is.”

  Beth took a bite out of her burger, which wasn’t one of the best veggie burgers she’d ever had. She spread on more mayo. Amelia was so good-looking. What would it be like to kiss a girl? She could try that out as Mercutio. But that would be dishonest, wouldn’t it? She’d rather kiss Mercutio. What was it about Amelia that had made Sita fall in love with her? Sita had never fallen in love with anyone before. Whatever Sita said, she must like Amelia better than she liked Beth. The thought made Beth feel lonely.

  “When did you fall in love with her?” she asked.

  “We took an English class together last semester,” Sita said. “She loves poetry so much and reads it so beautifully. She writes it, too. But we didn’t start going out until this month. Everything’s going fine, except that once I had cat hair on my clothes and had to go home and change. I just have to be more careful about things like that because of her chemical sensitivity.”

  “Do you like poetry better than drama?” Beth asked. She couldn’t keep the resentment out of her voice.

  “No, I like drama best.” Sita rubbed her hands like Lady Macbeth.

  “You’re certainly good at it.” Beth decided to venture further. If Sita was going to be this open about her life, maybe she’d be more open about the other world too. “And you’re good at secrets, at least your own. What were you doing in Shakespeare’s England?”

  “I reveal only one secret per day,” Sita told her, and continued eating.

  “Does that mean you’ll tell me tomorrow?” Beth couldn’t resist pushing her.

  “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,” Sita said. “Would you like some fries?”

  “All right.” Beth decided to content herself with fries for the moment. “But be careful in the other world. King Lear has killed Rosalind’s father and Cassius.”

  Sita raised her eyebrows. “You don’t know whether I can visit the world of Shakespeare’s characters without your help. You know only that I can visit Renaissance London.”

  “And you aren’t telling me anything more?” Beth asked.

  “You still haven’t offered to take me to the characters’ world.” Sita’s voice sharpened.

  Beth realized that Sita still held a grudge about that. “Should I?” Beth asked.

  “I was the one who saved Bottom from Richard last time,” Sita pointed out. “Maybe I could find Bottom now.” She finished her burger.

  Beth paused. “You did. But going there might be more dangerous for you than for me, because you’re Asian American.”

  “That’s Merlin’s excuse for excluding me.” Sita’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t think you’d use it too.”

  Beth spilled her drink, then started wiping it up. “I just meant that it would be more dangerous for you than for me.”

  “More dangerous than planning to die as Mercutio?” Sita gestured to the waitress to bring the bill.

  “No,” Beth admitted. “But would you go as a boy?”

  “I thought I might go as Mercutio’s girlfriend. You could protect me.” Sita grinned. “Unless the idea of my being your sweetheart makes you uneasy. I don’t want to go as your servant.”

  “Of course not.” Beth tried to conceal her discomposure. “You could go as Mercutio’s male friend.”

  “I think Mercutio might be more likely to have an Asian mistress than an Asian male friend,” Sita said.

  “Maybe. Come however you want.” Beth thought a girlfriend was less likely to come to blows with anyone, and since she had to die as Mercutio, that was good. “What name do you want to use?”

  “There’s nothing the matter with Sita. I’ll keep that name. When shall we travel?”

  “I guess we should go to my home now.” Why not? Things keep getting stranger all the time, Beth thought.

  The bill came and they pulled out their wallets.

  On the way home, Beth worried. Could she bring Sita to the world of Shakespeare’s characters? Beth hoped that she couldn’t manage it. Everything would be simpler if she didn’t have the ability. Sita had fallen into that world once, but it seemed more dangerous than ever now. Beth didn’t want to endanger her best friend. Her probably-best friend. At least taking Sita to another world was something Amelia couldn’t do. How far had they gone? It must have been all the way. But there was no reason to be jealous. It was a high school romance. Beth would be Sita’s friend forever, and high school romances almost always didn’t last. Not that she wanted Sita to be hurt.

  Beth saw Sita grinning and guessed that Sita could almost read her thoughts.

  “Don’t be disconcerted,” Sita said. “This experiment will just give us more practice with Shakespeare’s gender mix-ups.”

  “Sure,” Beth said.

  “I’m not trying to flirt with you in real life,” Sita said. “I just think it would be funny to do it in another world.”

  “I guess so.” Beth wasn’t too sure. Would Mercutio find Sita attractive? Any guy would. And he’d probably see her as exotic, forbidden fruit. Great. How was Beth supposed to think of her best friend that way?

  They went to Beth’s room, and Beth concentrated so hard it gave her a headache. She didn’t want to go to the Forest of Arden because Lear might be hanging around. Or he might be in Rome. She tried to picture herself and Sita in Italy, during a later period.

  Beth felt herself flung from winter to summer. She couldn’t tell whether Sita was spinning with her.

  Beth felt firm ground under her feet. She stood beside an unfamiliar river that was not so wide as some she had seen. Statues lin
ed the sides of the river. Churches towered above them. A huge palazzo dwarfed the other buildings. Donkeys pulled carts of food. In the distance, men were singing.

  Sita stood beside her. She wore a gray velvet gown and a matching cloak. Her hair was long and looped over her ears. A pearl hung from a chain on her neck. She had a red bindi on her forehead, though the twenty-first century Sita did not. She looked even prettier than usual. Gorgeous, in fact.

  A heavy-set, bearded man in gaudy clothes approached them.

  “Ho, Mercutio!” he greeted Beth. “It’s good to see another Veronan in Padua. See how wealthy I have become.” He thrust forward his hands, which were covered with rings on every finger.

  Beth frowned. “Wealth does not give you the dignity of birth, Petruchio. You should address me with more respect.”

  Petruchio roared with laughter. “Fine lord Mercutio, cousin of the Prince of Verona, I see you’re doing well. What a pretty girl!” He eyed Sita up and down.

  Sita bared her teeth at him.

  “Sita is mine, and I shall thank you not to stare at her in that manner.” Beth drew herself up to Mercutio’s full height. She doubted that the world of Taming of the Shrew was Bottom’s hiding place. “If you were a gentleman, I might fight you.”

  Petruchio laughed again. “Where did you find her? Off a ship in Venetia? I’d go there myself if there were more like her. But if you hope to wive it wealthily in Padua, you’d better hide her.”

  Beth frowned. “I have no need to find a wealthy wife. My own wealth is sufficient.”

  “Ha! You will marry a woman with money. The rich always do.” He leered at Sita. “And if he discards you, dark beauty, I could find a place for you.”

  Beth put her hand on her sword, but before she said anything, Sita spoke. “I should so like to meet your wife, Signor Petruchio. I admire her greatly. She would tear you limb from limb if you brought another woman home.”

  Petruchio laughed. “My wife is obedient. Shall we hold a contest, Signor Mercutio, to see whether your girl is as obedient as my wife?”

  “I am not such a fool as to bet against you, Signor Blowhard,” Beth said. “My wench obeys me though she scorns you.”

  Sita bared her teeth again.

  “Women who can rage can also fire up in other ways,” Petruchio said. “Let’s drink to that!” He pulled out his flask.

  “I think you have already had sufficient wine this morning,” Beth said. “We have come for two reasons. Have you heard of King Richard’s plan?”

  “Hush!” Petruchio put a finger to his lips. “I have. I like the ending of my play very well, but Kate might want it changed.”

  “I am sure she would,” Sita said, too sweetly.

  “We are also seeking Bottom the weaver,” Beth told Petruchio. “Have you seen him?”

  “I have seen many bottoms.” Petruchio laughed. “Thin bottoms, fleshy bottoms, dimpled bottoms. But not Bottom the weaver.”

  “He might be hidden in your world nonetheless,” Sita said. “Bottom, come hither, come hither!” she called out in a voice that was sweet as Titania’s, but almost as shrill and penetrating as a dog whistle.

  They paused.

  “He is not here,” Sita said.

  “I’d come if you beckoned me,” Petruchio said.

  Beth pulled out her sword and flourished it. “That is enough, Petruchio. We shall leave.”

  They swept away.

  They stood on a rocky promontory near a castle. Denmark. They both wore heavier cloaks.

  Sita pulled a hood over her head. “Your wench is so impressed with your gallantry, Lord Mercutio,” she said.

  Beth tried not to blush. “You know I have to play the part.”

  “You could call me your lady fair. People would still guess that I was your mistress. You don’t have to say ‘wench.’ ”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to guess what Mercutio would say. You’re right. He would say ‘lady fair’ or ‘fair Venus’ or the like.”

  “At least you won’t feel you have to speak that way to Hamlet,” Sita said.

  “I don’t know what he’ll say to you,” Beth warned. “He’s not exactly a feminist. Here he comes now.”

  Hamlet walked slowly towards them. He wore only a shirt and breeches, with no protection against the cold. He stared out to sea, then finally approached them.

  “Greetings, Mercutio,” he said. “Can we talk alone? I do not trust women.”

  “My lady is trustworthy, but we can talk alone if you wish,” Beth told him.

  Sita inclined her head to the prince, then went off by herself and began calling Bottom.

  “Bottom the weaver is lost, no doubt through a plan of King Richard’s,” Beth said. “We are trying to find him. My friend can imitate Queen Titania.”

  “Women can be many selves,” Hamlet said with a look of disapproval. “I have decided to join with you. A man must stand against evil. How can I help?”

  “When I know, I shall tell you,” Beth said. “Nothing rash. King Henry V invited Richard to single combat, and Richard sent Othello in his place. Othello killed Henry.”

  “Oh, what noble creatures have fallen,” Hamlet moaned. “Henry to death and Othello to serving a man far less noble than himself. How can a man survive this world without being corrupted by it? Is it vanity to believe that one can survive with honor?”

  “I don’t know,” Beth said. “We can try. Thank you so much for your willingness to help.”

  “Am I to fight Lear?” he asked. “Can I kill another graybeard, indeed a whitebeard? Killing old Polonius almost drove me mad. Could I talk to Lear as madman to madman?” He sighed, much more heavily than other people sighed. He exuded melancholy.

  Muttering to himself, Hamlet strode off into the castle.

  Beth longed to find Sita. To be near another human being who could feel happy. Beth walked along the promontory.

  Someone flung herself at Beth and almost knocked her down. To her astonishment it was a middle-aged woman, a good-looking one, in a brocade gown.

  “Stay away from him!” the woman cried, beating Beth on the chest. “How dare you enlist my son in your evil band! The play must change! I will save my son’s life!”

  “Queen Gertrude,” Beth said, pulling the woman off her. Even though Beth had Mercutio’s strength, the task was difficult. “I know the end of the play must grieve you . . . .”

  “It’s monstrous! Let me die, but my son must live, marry, and have children of his own.” Gertrude still clung to Beth’s tunic.

  “Who told you that it might be possible to change the ending of the play?” Beth asked.

  “That nice man from Italy. Very distinguished-looking. He was a soldier. He explained everything. I know that I must keep my son from helping you.” She glared at Beth.

  “Iago?” Beth groaned.

  “Yes, that was his name. Honest Iago. He didn’t tell me what to do. He simply made suggestions.”

  “That’s how he manipulates people,” Beth said. “He’s the one who persuaded Othello that Desdemona was unfaithful, though she loved only Othello. You can’t believe a word Iago says.”

  “I do believe that I can save my poor Hamlet,” Gertrude insisted. “I can’t let anything stand in my way.”

  Sita appeared out of the dark. “Foolish queen,” she intoned in her Lady Macbeth voice. “Why do you think the ending would be happier? Richard is trying to give all the plays darker endings. Who knows what he would devise for your play? Perhaps you would be the one who kills Hamlet, or he would be the one who kills you.”

  Gertrude shrieked. “No, no! That could never happen.”

  “It could,” Beth said, “if you help Richard. Please don’t oppose us. Let Hamlet help us if he will. It’s true that your play could be even more heartbreaking than it is.”

  “I
s there no hope?” Gertrude sobbed. She tore her hair.

  “You have another life now, in whatever world this may be,” Beth said. “The play cannot be changed, but you can still see Hamlet and speak with him.”

  “I try, but he is still so filled with misery.” Her voice was heavy with grief.

  “Try to comfort him as best you can. That’s all I can say,” Beth told her.

  Then she and Sita spun away from Denmark’s darkness.

  In Beth’s room, they sat on the floor.

  “Too sad.” Beth ran her hand over her forehead.

  “Try to think of something else,” Sita said.

  “Are you going to come out?” Beth asked.

  Sita shook her head. “You do know how to change the subject, don’t you? Not yet. I’m not ready to tell my parents.”

  “Do you think they’ll have a problem?”

  Sita nodded. “Most likely. They won’t cast me out of the house, but they’ll keep asking me ‘Are you sure? Are you sure?’ ”

  “Well, are you?”

  Sita nodded and moved to a yoga position. “Yes. I tried dating Arnie, the nicest boy I know, but I kept thinking about girls. I knew they were the ones I wanted to date. Then I met Amelia and she started asking me out. And that felt just right.”

  “Do you feel weird about coming to my place for a sleepover? Is that why you haven’t come here lately?” Beth asked.

  “I knew I was going to tell you soon, and I didn’t know how you’d feel. If I do come out to other people, they’ll ask whether you and I are going out.”

  Beth shrugged. “Like that’s a problem? All we have to say is we aren’t.”

  “Thanks.” Sita squeezed her arm, and Beth squeezed Sita’s arm back.

  Chapter 22

  BETH WALKED WITH TREPIDATION into the auditorium. Today she would see Amelia for the first time since learning that Amelia was Sita’s girlfriend. Beth hoped that her voice and face would be normal. Everything was normal. Except that Sita must like another girl better than she liked Beth. No, it was wrong to think that way. It was a different kind of caring.