“Wow!” said Minnie. She still didn’t want to have anything to do with it, but she couldn’t help but be impressed. “I can’t believe you wrote a whole play.”
“Neither can I.”
“And I can’t believe that the entire school is going to watch it.”
Elizabella’s eyes widened.
“Neither can I!”
It suddenly dawned on her. She had poured her real feelings into this play. And now everyone was going to watch it . . . and see inside her brain!
“And all the parents and big brothers and sisters . . .”
But Minnie hadn’t finished the thought before Elizabella bolted across the playground until she went smack bang straight into Mr Gobblefrump’s trouser leg.
“Elizabella!” he said, “I don’t care how good this play may be, I can and will fire you as playwright if I see you running or breaking one more school rule!”
“I’m sorry, but Mr Gobblefrump, I need the play back,” she said. “I need to take it back and throw it in the bin!” She went to snatch it from his hand, but he was too quick for her. He held it high above his head.
“Good heavens, Elizabella!”
“Give it back!” she said, getting annoyed.
“Listen,” said Mr Gobblefrump, “I know it’s scary having your work read by other people, and the more you care about it, the scarier it is. It is a risk you take as a writer, but all great things come with risk. Let me read it. Please?”
Elizabella thought for a moment.
“Okay . . .” she said, warily. “But I reserve the right to throw it in the bin afterwards. It is my property after all.”
“We can discuss that later,” Mr Gobblefrump said, as the bell rang, signalling the start of school. “Now, I give you permission to be a few minutes late to class this morning.”
Elizabella was puzzled; this was very un-Gobblefrump behaviour.
“Why? As a prize for writing the play?”
“No, to clean the pen off your face. Off you go!”
The Bilby Creek Primary School toilets were never particularly well resourced, but Elizabella really noticed it now as she tried to clean herself up. She grabbed the last piece of paper towel from the dispenser, wet it from the leaky tap and rubbed the crusty old nub of a soap keg on the towel. Then she went to look in the mirror to see where all the pen was on her face. Only it wasn’t exactly a mirror. It was a foggy piece of metal nailed into the wall. And looking at it was like trying to see your face in an oven tray. She couldn’t really make out where the pen was. So she just scrubbed and scrubbed at her cheeks, nose and forehead hoping for the best.
“Look at Elizabella!” Daphne cried out, as she walked into the room, late. She still had a lot of pen on her face, which was red and scratchy. Her eyes were wide and yet she looked a bit like she was going to fall asleep.
Everyone stared. “That’s what my mum’s face looked like after she had a chemical peel!” Anaya said.
Miss Carrol was at the board. “Quiet,” she said to the class. “Are you okay, Elizabella?”
“I’m fine . . . I just fell asleep on a pen.”
Miss Carrol looked at her, not entirely sure what to make of this, although it didn’t seem out of the realm of typical Elizabella behaviour.
“I see . . .” she said. “Pull out your book then.” She turned back to the board.
“Elizabella, are you really okay?” Huck asked.
“It’s just pen!” Elizabella whispered. “What’s the big deal?”
“It’s not the pen. Or the fact that you seem to have washed your face with sandpaper. You got to school early. You never get to school early. I couldn’t believe you weren’t there this morning when I came past your house.”
“I said I’m fine,” she said quickly, not truly sure whether she was or not. She was so apprehensive that Mr Gobblefrump was reading her play that she couldn’t concentrate for the whole lesson.
Mr Gobblefrump put the script on his desk and opened the first page.
A Tale of Two Dogs
by Elizabella
“Hmm, let’s see what we have here,” he said, and he dipped a biscuit in his cup of tea and began to read.
No sooner had he started than he was ten pages deep, then twenty.
He dialled the intercom.
Mr Biffington who ran the school office came in. “More tea, please,” Mr Gobblefrump said. “Stat!”
At recess Elizabella ran into the playground looking for Mr Gobblefrump but he was nowhere to be found.
Mr Crabb, Mr Biffington’s husband who managed the school office with him, was in the playground instead.
“Where’s Mr Gobblefrump?” she asked him.
“He’s very busy,” Mr Crabb replied.
“He’s never too busy for playground duty!” Elizabella was alarmed.
She ran towards his office. He probably hates the play so much he’s writing a new one! Or calling the police! Are there bad writing police? Her mind was racing.
Elizabella got to his office door. There was a big piece of paper stuck to it which read:
DO NOT DISTURB
UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES
She knocked at it.
“READ THE SIGN!” a voice bellowed back from the inside.
A tennis ball bounced straight off Elizabella’s torso and dribbled out of the court where it rolled into a little flowerbed.
“Elizabella, you’re not concentrating!” Ava stamped her foot in frustration. It was lunchtime and Elizabella was trying to play handball with her friends, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Mr Gobblefrump reading her play and every time the ball would enter her square, she’d let it bounce off her body to nowhere, disrupting the game and annoying everyone.
“Sorry guys,” she said as she picked up the ball and half-heartedly bounced it back to Ava. Elizabella had written a hundred stories or more, but she’d never composed anything that so concerned her real feelings before now. And knowing another human was actually reading it made her feel all queasy.
By the time the bell rang for the end of lunch, Elizabella had decided that Mr Gobblefrump officially hated the play. So much so that he was probably filling out the necessary forms right now to have her expelled.
It’s okay, she thought to herself as she walked through the school building towards her classroom. Maybe I can convince Dad to move us all to Echidna Beach where nobody knows me and I’ll never write down my feelings ever again. She had just about reached her classroom when she heard a deep, stern voice.
“Elizabella!” It was Mr Gobblefrump.
Elizabella gulped.
“My office. Now.”
Elizabella followed him down the hall till they reached his office. She sat down in the chair opposite him.
“This,” Mr Gobblefrump said, holding up the script. “This is–”
“I know it’s bad! I’m sorry, Mr Gobblefrump!”
“A triumph!”
“What?” Elizabella was genuinely shocked.
“I laughed! I loved! I cried! I wanted to be the dogs! The adventures they had! The schemes! The wild, wild pranks! And when Coco got on a plane and moved to Perth, leaving Ralph behind, well I cried like a baby. And how you incorporated lessons about bees of all things! And the echoes of the highs and lows we’ve had this year at Bilby Creek – don’t think I didn’t notice the references to our time at Lizard Lake! Elizabella, you have created a piece of art that nobody at Bilby Creek will forget for a very long time! A very long time indeed!”
“Really?”
“Really!”
Elizabella smiled, then she had a terrible thought: “Maybe you’re just being nice about it because adults can’t say that a kid’s writing is bad! But then we’ll put the play on and the entire school will laugh at me!”
“Oh they will laugh,” Mr Gobblefrump replied, nodding vigorously. “I am certain of that. They will laugh and cheer and be deeply moved as well – such is the emotional roller coaster you have created in A Tale
of Two Dogs.”
“But everyone will see my real thoughts.”
“Maybe some will notice the connections between real life and the play. Maybe some will think they’re just enjoying an extraordinary, totally fictional story about a couple of dogs. A part of the magic of theatre is that the audience will take it as they will. You can’t control that. And you must be brave, dear playwright. Okay?”
There was a big pause. Elizabella did consider herself to be very brave . . .
“Um . . .” She scratched her head. “Well . . . okay, I guess.”
“Now go back to class! And tonight, do get some rest. Tomorrow we will hold auditions!” And before Elizabella had a chance to change her mind Mr Gobblefrump had pressed his finger on the big red WHOLE SCHOOL button of the intercom.
“Attention, Year Four!” His voice boomed out through the speaker system.
“Auditions for the brand-new play A Tale of Two Dogs will be held in the hall tomorrow at lunchtime. Please bring a short monologue to perform – you can write it yourself or choose from a play.”
Elizabella was so excited as she walked home from school with Huck.
“Huck, I can’t believe it – a play that I wrote is going to be performed at Bilby Creek!” she said.
“I know! You must be so happy,” Huck replied.
“Are you going to audition?”
“Of course!” Huck said, even though he was really nervous about it.
“Great. Then all I have to do is convince Minnie to be involved and everything will be perfect.”
“What’s your dad making for this weird dinner tonight?” Huck asked.
Elizabella stopped for a moment. She had been so distracted with the play that she’d totally forgotten that her dad had organised for Leanne and Angeliki to come over for dinner. It was like a double-date in Elizabella’s house that she and Huck were being forced to attend like dinner hostages.
“I can’t think of anyone coming to this dinner who will enjoy it,” Elizabella said.
“Agreed,” said Huck. “Toddberry and Angeliki don’t want to double-date with adults.”
“And surely my dad and your mum don’t want to double-date with teenagers.”
“And somehow we’re stuck in the middle!”
“It’s a bad idea that should go in the bad ideas bin,” Elizabella concluded.
Later that night, Elizabella was twirling some spaghetti on a spoon. Angeliki was sitting opposite her. She hadn’t said anything in particular, but it was obvious to Elizabella that Angeliki was still mad at her. Elizabella felt a bit bad. She really had never meant to embarrass her.
“Can you pass me the cheese?” Angeliki asked.
“Sure,” said Elizabella. She picked it up and reached across the table, accidentally spilling some of it in Angeliki’s lemonade.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabella said. “That was an accident!”
“I’m sure it was,” said Angeliki. Elizabella couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic.
An awkward silence fell over the dinner.
“How’s this weather we’re having?” Larry croaked under the table, trying to help even though no one could understand him.
“Big storm coming tomorrow,” Toddberry said.
“Todd!” Larry croaked. “Can you hear me? How can I make you hear me?”
“Is that lizard okay?” Angeliki asked. “Maybe he’s choking on the spag bol?”
“He’s fine,” said Martin. “He just likes to chat.”
“If only you knew!” Larry croaked back. “The irony!” He began to let out a lizard laugh.
Silence fell over the room once more.
“So . . . how was school, everyone?” asked Martin.
There was a long pause.
“Fine,” said Huck, Elizabella, Angeliki and Toddberry at the same time. Leanne and Martin laughed.
“Ha,” said Martin. “Looks like Year Fours have more in common with Year Eights than I thought!”
“Oh, Marty,” Leanne chuckled, putting her hand on his.
“Marty!” Huck whispered to Elizabella who felt a little vomit rise in her throat upon learning that her dad had a pet name. She put down her fork in disgust.
“School is always just ‘fine’ no matter what grade you’re in,” Leanne continued.
“Actually,” said Huck, “Elizabella had a pretty great day . . .”
“Did she now? What happened?” Martin asked.
“Mr Gobblefrump likes my play,” Elizabella replied.
“Of course he does!” Huck said. “You’re the best writer in Bilby Creek! Probably in the whole of the Gumnut district!”
Angeliki had been watching Huck’s interactions with Elizabella intently.
“I didn’t know this was a triple date, Todd,” she said, quietly nudging Toddberry in the ribs.
“Oh, Elizabella and Huck aren’t going out,” said Toddberry with a smirk. “They’re just friends, who definitely haven’t been in love with each other since preschool – right, guys?”
Elizabella and Huck both went the same shade of bright red.
“Sorry,” Angeliki said. “It’s not nice when people gawk at your private life, is it?”
“No,” said Elizabella. “It’s not. And if I have ever done that to anyone else who might be sitting at this table right now . . . then I’m sorry,” Elizabella said, looking straight at Angeliki.
“Well if you had done that, and you apologised, then you’d be forgiven,” Angeliki replied.
“Pfft, hardly,” said Toddberry.
“Don’t hold grudges, Todd,” Angeliki said, looking at him.
Maybe Isabeth was right, thought Elizabella. Maybe Angeliki isn’t so bad.
“Well,” said Martin, “I must say I’m thoroughly confused!”
The next day at lunchtime, Elizabella sat with Mr Gobblefrump in the school hall. They had a desk set up with notepaper and pens and were eagerly awaiting the auditionees with their monologues. Elizabella was so excited to see everyone’s auditions, but then she had a pang of sadness. She wished more than anything else that Minnie would get involved.
It just won’t be the same without her.
Outside in the foyer, the Year Fours were nervously practising their lines. Some were also gathering about a sign-up sheet for people who were interested in taking on production roles like set and costume design, lighting and special effects.
Ava and Evie were squabbling because they’d both picked the same piece and didn’t want the other to perform it. Anaya was as cool as a cucumber as she practised her monologue. She’d been on TV after all, helping her mum read the weather.
Huck was pacing back and forth trying to affix a red nose to his face. He’d selected a monologue about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, but he was wracked with nerves and kept forgetting his lines.
“All right,” said Miss Carrol, “let’s get started. Ava, you’re up.”
Ava took a big breath and went inside.
Mr Gobblefrump and Elizabella watched her come in.
“Hi Ava!” said Elizabella.
“Um . . . hi,” said Ava, suddenly jittery.
“No need to be worried,” Mr Gobblefrump said.
Ava began. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more beautiful and more temperature.”
“Temperate,” Mr Gobblefrump corrected her quietly under his breath. Ava was reciting a Shakespeare sonnet, and Mr Gobblefrump knew them all by heart. He was delighted she had chosen Shakespeare for her audition but couldn’t stifle a grimace upon hearing the error.
“Bravo, bravo,” Mr Gobblefrump said as she finished. “Next!”
Evie followed her with the exact same monologue. She even made the same mistake, saying “temperature” too.
“They were both pretty good,” Elizabella whispered to Mr Gobblefrump. “Maybe one of them could be the Queen Bee?”
“Maybe . . .” said Mr Gobblefrump.
An hour later, Mr Gobblefrump and Elizabella had witnessed
so many monologues it was hard to keep track. Kingston gave a fantastic recital of a Dr Seuss poem and Anaya had also impressed with a monologue from the perspective of a butterfly. Daphne stood out too with her song and dance about a pony.
Back out in the foyer, Miss Carrol was looking at her watch. Only ten more minutes of lunchtime left.
“Anyone else keen to audition?” she asked. Huck was pacing around nervously.
“Huck?”
“I don’t know!” Huck cried. “I don’t know if I want to!”
“Well,” said Miss Carrol, “there’s nothing to lose from trying is there?”
“I suppose not . . .” and he went into the hall, shaking like a leaf.
“Huck!” cried Elizabella.
“I, um . . .”
“We’re ready for you, Huck. Now, in your own time, begin!” Mr Gobblefrump said.
“I . . . I . . . I’ve for my lines! I’m sorry!” he said and started to run off the stage.
“Huck, wait!” Elizabella cried out. She turned to Mr Gobblefrump. “Maybe he can read some of the actual script?”
“Well . . .” said Mr Gobblefrump, “we do prefer auditionees to be prepared, but I suppose we can make an exception.” Mr Gobblefrump thumbed through the pages. Eventually he came across a monologue by one of the two lead dog characters, Ralph. He marched up to the stage and gave it to Huck.
“You’ll see now,” whispered Mr Gobblefrump as he sat back down next to Elizabella, “how important it is to be prepared.”
Come on, Huck, thought Elizabella. You can do this. Prove him wrong!
Huck took a big breath and began to speak.
“Coco, I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” he said, looking at Elizabella. A shiver went down her spine. It was the first time she’d ever heard the lines she had written spoken out loud and it felt incredible. “I just can’t imagine life without you,” Huck continued. Elizabella leaned forward, and saw that Huck’s lip was beginning to quiver. “You’re my best friend. And everything I do is better because you’re by my side doing it with me. And when you go, nothing will be the same . . .”
Elizabella Breaks a Leg Page 7