Elizabella Breaks a Leg

by Zoe Norton Lodge

  By the time he finished Elizabella and Mr Gobblefrump had their mouths wide open. Huck ran off stage, totally mortified. He had become so emotional reading the lines he’d shed a real tear.

  “That was–” said Elizabella.

  “Wow!” Mr Gobblefrump finished her thought.

  Minnie was one of the only Year Fours who wasn’t in the hall. It was pretty lonely in the playground with no one from the grade there. She had tried playing handball by herself like she’d seen Elizabella do, but it got dull very quickly. She soon realised this wouldn’t be the only lunchtime she was alone. Once the play was in full swing everyone would be busy with it.

  I guess it’s good to get used to the idea of being lonely, she thought. Then again . . .

  And she started to make her way to the hall.

  Elizabella was still on a high at home that night. Watching everyone audition to be in a play she had written was an experience like no other. She had given all her thoughts to Mr Gobblefrump, but ultimately casting was going to be his decision. He’d taken home the notes they’d made about the auditions along with the list of people who’d signed up for technical and production roles.

  Elizabella had nattered about the play to her dad and Toddberry all the way through dinner. And even though they listened – well, her dad did anyway – she had a sharp pain of missing her mum. She would have loved nothing more than to talk to her mum about her script, everything she’d put into it, her thoughts on who should perform each role and what was going to happen when everyone saw inside her brain.

  Suddenly she had an idea.

  “Dad,” she said. “Do you have Isabeth’s phone number?”

  In his own house, Mr Gobblefrump had removed his toupee, taken his night bath and was in a robe as he went through all the audition notes at the dining table. He agonised over every decision, wanting to make sure he got it perfect.

  It took a whole packet of thinking-biscuits but eventually he had assigned all the crew roles, cast the leads and the minor characters too. He was quite satisfied with his choices, but there was just one role he hadn’t been able to fill. The Talking Bucket Narrator. It was such an important part to convey the story and it really needed to be someone with a very commanding voice, who had the gravitas to hold the audience captive and to be their guide through the story.

  “Pemberley,” he said to the cat, whom he had been running all his decisions by.

  “Do you think perhaps the Talking Bucket Narrator should be played by . . . me?”

  The cat sprang off the table into the air and landed directly on Mr Gobblefrump’s bare head.

  “Well, that’s a sign if ever I saw one!” Mr Gobblefrump said. “But, frankly, I’m not sure what that sign means!”

  “There were so many auditionees,” Elizabella said. “It was the best! Even though it did actually get boring at times. During a monologue about a flower pot I think I had a mini sleep!”

  Isabeth laughed down the end of the line.

  “That’s so cool!” she said. “Break a leg!”

  “What?” Elizabella asked.

  “Break a leg! It’s what you say instead of ‘good luck’ to someone doing a play.”

  “Really? Why?” Elizabella asked.

  “Because ‘good luck’ means bad luck.”

  “That’s weird!” Elizabella replied.

  “There are lots of weird phrases about theatre,” Isabeth continued. “Have you ever heard anyone say ‘get the show on the road ’?”

  “Yeah it means like ‘ let’s get moving ’?”

  “Yeah, but originally it’s what theatre people said when they’d pack up a play and tour it to different cities. Maybe even to Broadway.”

  By this point Elizabella had grabbed a notebook and was writing them all down.

  “Where’s Broadway?” Elizabella asked, as she made notes.

  “New York City,” said Isabeth.

  “Oh, that’s where my best friend Minnie is going!”

  “She’s lucky. And to be ‘in the limelight’? That comes from the fact that back in the 1800s stages were lit by mineral lime – so the performers were literally in the limelight.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Theatre people are also really superstitious.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They believe in chance and luck. They never say the name of the Shakespeare play Macbeth before a show.”

  “That’s the strangest one yet! Why?”

  “They think it’s really bad luck. Like even worse luck than saying ‘good luck’.”

  “How do you know so much about theatre?” Elizabella asked.

  “It’s mainly from my mum,” said Isabeth. Elizabella sighed.

  “I wish my mum was here to teach me about theatre.”

  “I’m so sorry that she’s not,” said Isabeth. “But I’ll do my best to help.”

  Elizabella smiled. Best friends like Minnie are amazing, but family is so important too. She wished she could keep all the people she loved – friends and family – zipped up in her pocket forever.

  The next day when Elizabella arrived at school there was a big noticeboard in the playground outside Mr Gobblefrump’s office. Pinned to it were sheets of paper with all the cast and crew for A Tale of Two Dogs. Elizabella desperately wanted to see who had been given each role, but she couldn’t get close to the board because the entire grade was scrambling for a look.

  “Minnie!” she said, seeing her friend. “Can you read it?”

  Minnie towered over all the other students and could see it clearly even from the back of the crowd.

  “Yep,” Minnie said, scanning the board. “Just committing it to memory . . . Okay, got it!” She left the crowd and headed for Elizabella. “Let’s walk,” she said.

  “Sandy is the costume designer and Evie is in charge of the tech.”

  “Oh no, that means she didn’t get cast as the Queen Bee.” Elizabella said. “She’ll be upset.”

  “Yep,” Minnie agreed. “Especially because Ava got that role! Daphne and Kingston are her servant bees.”

  “Who are the lead dogs?”

  “Anaya is Coco the dog.”

  “That’s good,” Elizabella said. “She’s probably the best actor in Year Four.”

  “And Huck is Ralph the dog.”

  “Whoa!” said Elizabella. “Go, Huck!”

  “And who is the Talking Bucket Narrator?”

  “You are!”

  “Me?” Elizabella was surprised. “I’m not supposed to be in the play! I didn’t even audition!”

  “Well that’s what the noticeboard says. It also says you’re in charge of the set.”

  “Well that makes sense, I did promise it could be made out of broken stuff in the school – I guess it’s my responsibility to find it all. But this is too much! Being the narrator and the set designer will chew up all my spare time and we won’t get to hang out properly before you go to New York City!”

  “Well . . . I guess maybe I could help you find stuff for the set. Given my exceptional skills at finding and repurposing things. As long as you promise it won’t be too much fun.”

  “Oh I promise,” said Elizabella, “I can make it as boring as watching pigeon poo dry on a hot brick!”

  “Okay,” said Minnie. “It will be good to be involved in the set. It will help me figure out all the special effects.”

  “What?” Elizabella looked at her; she didn’t understand.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Minnie said casually. “I’m in charge of special effects.”

  “But I thought you didn’t want to be involved?”

  “Well I didn’t. But I couldn’t let you mess up the special effects now, could I?”

  Elizabella gave Minnie a big hug.

  “And besides I’m not going to spend the rest of my time at Bilby Creek Primary playing handball by myself, like a big weirdo!”

  Elizabella laughed.

  That morning, after the first bell, Mr Gobblefrump kep
t the Year Four students back.

  “Now,” he said. “I am sure you will have all seen the roles assigned for the school play. Congratulations to all who have been cast and to our crew as well. Today we will have our first rehearsal at lunchtime. Be there to take the limelight!”

  “Did you know that phrase comes from the fact that in the 1800s stages were actually lit by mineral lime?” Elizabella said to Minnie.

  “No . . . how did you know that?” Minnie asked

  “My family know a lot about theatre,” she said with a smile.

  Mr Gobblefrump dismissed everyone and began heading to his office. Elizabella chased after him.

  “Mr Gobblefrump, I think there’s a mistake,” she said. “You’ve actually cast me as the Talking Bucket Narrator.”

  “Well,” said Mr Gobblefrump. “I spent a long time last night thinking about who could possibly do this important role. It needed to be someone with authority and charm, someone with an excellent voice. Someone who truly understands the ins and outs of the play. Naturally, my first thought was myself.”

  Elizabella stifled a giggle.

  “But see, I must direct the play, and I can’t be distracted by a silly acting role. So I realised the next best thing is . . . you. So, what do you say, will you take it on?”

  “Well, only if you’re sure you can’t do it, Mr Gobblefrump,” Elizabella said with a grin.

  That lunchtime the cast and crew of A Tale of Two Dogs gathered in the hall for their first script read-through. Elizabella was nervous. This was the first time she was going to hear her whole play read out loud. Before they got down to business, Mr Gobblefrump gave them a big lecture.

  “Firstly, you may notice my attire,” he said.

  “It’s a bit hard to miss,” Minnie whispered to Elizabella. Mr Gobblefrump was wearing a floor-length pink gown over his suit.

  “This is the gown I wore when I was a young man directing my first play with the Bilby Creek Amateur Players. Our production of Little Red Riding Hood where all the characters were different types of fruit was a triumph! As will this play be. If my gown still brings good fortune!”

  Theatre people really are superstitious, Elizabella thought.

  “Now to the cast,” Mr Gobblefrump continued. “Congratulations! You have been given roles in what I truly believe is one of the best plays I have read, and I’ve read every Shakespeare play there is! Even all three parts of Henry VI! You must do this play justice.” He began to hand out scripts.

  “And just like those actors who had the privilege of having Mr Shakespeare in the room when they debuted his plays, you too have the playwright among you. Stand up, young expert of the pen!”

  Elizabella stood up, a tiny bit embarrassed, but mostly thrilled with the attention.

  “Give her a round of applause!” Everyone clapped.

  “And use her – if there is something in the language you don’t understand, or a question you have, the writer is right here ready to explain.”

  “Now to the crew, once you have studied your scripts, I am confident you will be filled with wild notions, from the fabulous to the fantastic, the ferocious, the frightening and everything in between! You will have wonderful ideas to bring this play to life, I have absolutely no doubt. But please remember this: we don’t have any money! Literally!”

  Audible groans came from the crowd.

  “But Elizabella assures me that all the set and costumes can be done for free – in fact, it is a condition of this play going ahead! Sandy, you will have to be creative in dressing everyone in clothes they already own.”

  “I wish I’d known that before I signed up!” Sandy said.

  “Elizabella, you will design a set using discarded and broken school property. And let me be clear, these must be things which are broken already. You may not break things in order to use them!”

  Elizabella nodded.

  “And Minnie, well, do your best, but if you can’t do the special effects for free, then we won’t have any and that’s fine.”

  “Oh, we’ll have them,” said Minnie, smiling.

  “Now to the stage. Let’s have all of our actors sitting in a nice big circle and our very first read- through will begin!”

  Everyone got up and started walking towards the stage. Elizabella noticed Evie had her arms folded and looked a little cross.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to be the Queen Bee, Evie,” said Elizabella. “Especially after it was your idea to have one!”

  “That’s okay,” said Evie, a little grumpily. “But if Ava isn’t nice to me, I’ll turn the lights out when she goes on.”

  All the actors assembled in a big circle on the stage, each of them holding a script. Mr Gobblefrump sat in the audience and bellowed at them.

  “Alright, let’s begin!”

  Elizabella’s heart raced as she opened her mouth to utter the very first lines of the play as the Talking Bucket. She had taken the idea from the production of Rapunzel, to have the play open with a monologue from the narrator:

  “Good evening, welcome one and all

  to the Bilby Creek Primary Concert Hall . . .”

  Over the next hour, the cast of A Tale of Two Dogs read through Elizabella’s play. And as they did, the reality of what was happening began to sink in.

  We’re actually going to put on my play! Everyone is reading my words! And . . . they don’t seem to hate it! It was exhilarating.

  As they read through the scenes, Elizabella couldn’t help but mouth the words along with the actors. And Mr Gobblefrump paced about the hall stopping occasionally to yell “Bravo!” when he was particularly moved by someone or other’s reading of a particular line.

  Minnie listened intently and made notes about the special effects she could create to make this play come to life. As the cast read, things were appearing very familiar to Minnie. The two dogs had a shared language, and they loved pranks. They even broke a world record together. And then one of them moved away.

  At the end of the day, Elizabella was standing in the playground, when Kingston came up to her.

  “Hey Elizabella,” he said. “I love the play heaps!”

  “Thanks, Kingston,” she replied.

  “But I was wondering, shouldn’t my bee character have some sort of superpower? Like I was thinking maybe it would be cool if he could shoot laser beams from his eyes?”

  “Um . . . why?” Elizabella asked.

  “I dunno. Just because it would be awesome?” Kingston replied.

  “Hey Elizabella.” Daphne came bounding up to her. “I just want to make a bit of a change. I reckon my bee character should have really long hair like Rapunzel that she uses to fly.”

  “Why would a bee have hair?”

  “It would just be sooo much better.”

  Elizabella didn’t quite know what to do. She had thought long and hard about all the characters; she didn’t want the actors changing them.

  “Let me think about it,” she said.

  “Elizabella, how was school?”

  Martin was serving her a big piece of chocolate cake for afternoon tea.

  “Good,” she said. “But also, I’m beginning to realise plays are stressful!”

  “Oh, by the way a package arrived for you.” Martin handed it to her. It was rectangular and heavy. She opened it. Inside was a big book with “Rhyme Crimes”* written on the front cover.

  “It’s Mum and Aunty Anna’s plays!” she exclaimed. “From Isabeth!”

  Elizabella raced out of the room and rang her cousin.

  “Thanks so much for the book!” she said.

  “That’s okay! I hope it inspires you to write more plays.”

  “I’m sure it will. Although I have to get through this one first. I’m having problems already – all the actors want to change their lines!”

  “Mum’s warned me about this before,” Isabeth replied. “Sometimes actors think they should be the star even if they’re actually just playing a minor role.”

&nbs
p; “That’s exactly what’s happening!”

  “Just remember, you wrote the script; if they disagree with it, they can write their own plays.”

  “Good point! Thanks so much for all your help, Isabeth,” she said. “Ooh, call waiting – I better get it.” Elizabella swapped the calls.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Elizabella? It’s, um, Angeliki.”

  “Hi. I’ll find Toddberry. I mean Todd. One sec.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Todd, it’s your GIRLFRIEND,” Elizabella called out loudly, bounding down the hallway.

  Toddberry raced out of his room. He lunged at his sister, grabbing the phone from her like it was a precious diamond she was about to throw into the sea. Then, he spoke into the phone smoothly, sounding as relaxed as a rat on a garbage heap.

  “Hey . . .” he said.

  Teenagers are so weird, Elizabella thought. Note to self: don’t be weird when you become a teenager!

  The next day at rehearsal Elizabella stood up in front of the cast and made an announcement.

  “Anyone who wants to change their parts,” she said, “can feel free to write their own plays. And if you don’t want these parts we can recast you!”

  Mr Gobblefrump was very impressed with her conviction.

  “Bravo, Elizabella!” he said. “Now on with the show!” and he flounced to his director’s chair in his pink good-luck gown.

  Elizabella and Minnie watched the rehearsal intently, looking at each scene and trying to think of what free found objects they might be able to locate for the set. There were so many settings to figure out – an aeroplane, the beach, a campsite, a doghouse, a beehive. Elizabella had begun to wish she’d just set the play in the Bilby Creek Primary School hall, then they wouldn’t have to find anything. They’d already hunted around the school for broken things, but hadn’t had much luck. Suddenly Minnie had an idea.

  “I’ve got it! This weekend is council pick-up day in Bilby Creek. I heard Mum telling Dad about it this morning,” she exclaimed. “If we go round the neighbourhood we’ll be sure to find everything we need!”