“Just a dose of courage.”
“Nonsense, you’ve got plenty to spare.”
Arabella stood back, staring at Christy critically. “A little more rouge, I think,” she murmured. “You may need a touch-up later, by the way. I don’t know why you insisted on getting ready so early. You’re practically the first cast member here tonight.”
“I have something I need to do before the show starts,” Christy replied.
“Well, just don’t muss up my fine handiwork.” Arabella dabbed some pink color on Christy’s cheeks. “There. The perfect Juliet. Thanks, in no small part, to me.”
“Arabella,” Christy said softly, “I want to apologize for accusing you about the rotten egg. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. We all get a bit cranky sometimes. And I know you’re under a lot of pressure.” She tucked a wisp of hair behind Christy’s ear. “But don’t worry, darling. You’re going to knock ’em dead.”
“Thanks, Arabella.”
When Arabella left, Christy stared at her reflection in the big mirror on the wall. “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” she whispered.
Her voice was trembling. So were her hands. Two and half hours till the curtain rose, and already she was so nervous she could barely whisper her lines. How would she ever make it through the night?
With a sigh, Christy climbed out of her chair. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself. She had work to do. She was going to try to keep this play from being sabotaged. And she didn’t have much time.
Fifteen minutes had passed. The backstage area was still practically deserted. After this afternoon’s final rehearsal, most of the cast had headed home to rest before the show.
But if someone was planning on sabotaging the play, Christy reasoned, they’d probably show up early to set things up. Why would they risk getting caught closer to show time? By then, everybody would be on the lookout for the person who’d been causing all the trouble.
Christy leaned against a wall and sighed. Maybe she should give up. There was no sign of Marylou—or of anyone else, for that matter.
Just as she turned down a hallway, Christy noticed Marylou’s younger brother, Vernon, stepping into the storage area where the costumes were kept. He closed the door behind him.
Christy tiptoed down the hall and put her ear to the door. Carefully, she turned the door handle and opened the door a crack.
Vernon’s back was to the door. He was in the far corner of the dimly-lit room. A lamplight flickered. Huge shadows danced on the wall.
Christy watched in shock as he pulled her costume off a rack and turned the gown inside-out.
Gently, slowly, Christy eased into the room and slipped behind a rack of costumes.
Vernon didn’t seem to notice. He pulled a metal can out of his pocket and opened the top. Then he upended the can and began shaking it over Christy’s costume. Out rained a fine powder.
Suddenly, the door flew open.
“Vernon!” Marylou cried. “What are you doing? I told you no more, and I meant it!”
“B—but Marylou! What’s the point, if we don’t do something tonight, of all nights? I thought you wanted me to do this.”
“Not anymore.” Marylou sighed. “After I went over to Cora’s yesterday, I could see the way Neil was lookin’ at Christy. I realized he’s never goin’ to look at me that way, Vernon. Most likely, no fella ever will.”
Christy stepped out from behind the rack of clothes.
“Sakes alive!” Vernon cried, leaping backward. The can of powder dropped to the floor.
“You’ve been behind this whole thing, haven’t you, Marylou?” Christy asked, trying to rein in her fury.
Marylou’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. And I’m awful sorry, Christy, not that sayin’ so does much good now. I was just . . . hurtin’, I suppose.”
“You mean because you’ve always had a crush on Neil?”
“For as long as I can remember. And then, when he came back to Knoxville, saying how we ought to get together and all, and then nothing came of it. . . . Besides, I could see you were sweet on each other.” She wiped away a tear. “I’ve got no excuse, Christy.”
“So you recruited Vernon to help you set up your tricks?”
Vernon grinned proudly. “I came up with this one all on my own!”
“What’s in the can, Vernon?” Christy asked.
“Itchin’ powder.”
Marylou groaned. “I told him no more. I started thinkin’ on how sad everyone was goin’ to be, if the play was canceled. Even ol’ Ara-bellow.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” Vernon said with a giggle. “It was such a fine trick, don’t you see?”
Christy managed a smile. “Yes, it certainly was ingenious, Vernon. Only now what am I going to do?”
“Maybe we could wash off the powder,” Marylou suggested.
“Nope.” Vernon shook his head. “It sticks like glue. That was my doin’, too, by the way,” he added proudly. “Remember the glue on the chair?”
“You’re quite the mischief-maker, Vernon,” Christy said. “I’ve got a couple of students just like you.”
Marylou thumbed through the racks of clothes. “I’ve got it!” she said. “Although it may take a little work.” She pulled out a long, pale green dress.
“It looks like my gown,” Christy said. “But it’s about three sizes too big.”
“Not by the time I’m done with it. We’ve got two hours. And nobody stitches faster than I do.”
“Do you really think you can do it?”
“You just wait, Christy. I’ll have this dress ready for you before you know it!” Marylou paused. “But there’s just one condition.”
“Yes?”
“You promise to forgive me for the rotten way I’ve been actin’.”
Christy gave her a hug. “Of course I forgive you. By the way, you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You said no fellow would ever look at you the way Neil looks at me. But I know that a member of the cast has a secret crush on you.”
“You’re just pullin’ my leg.”
“Nope,” Christy smiled. “It just so happens he goes by the name of Romeo.”
Seventeen
There’s a full house,” Christy whispered, peeking out from behind the heavy, velvet curtain.
“I still don’t understand why you changed your costume at the last minute like this,” Arabella muttered. “It’s very unprofessional. Besides, pale green will completely clash with my set.”
“It’ll match my complexion perfectly,” Christy joked.
Aunt Cora signaled Christy. “Get ready for your entrance, Juliet,” she whispered.
Christy took a deep breath. She closed her eyes.
She knew the play as if she’d written it herself. She knew the set as if she’d been born there. She knew her character as if she really were Juliet.
It was time.
Christy stepped onto the stage.
Her throat tightened. Her heart raced.
What was her first line? She couldn’t remember her line!
See? a voice inside of her taunted. You’re not ready for this, Christy. You’re going to fail. You’re doomed.
Christy gazed out into the audience at the vast sea of faces.
She could feel her fellow actors waiting, holding their breath, crossing their fingers.
With God’s help, I know I can do this, Christy told herself.
She closed her eyes and silently prayed. When Christy opened her eyes, she glanced down at the front row. Miss Alice was there, and so were Christy’s students.
But for now, they weren’t her students.
For now, the audience wasn’t there.
For a few moments, while the magic of the theater lasted, her name would be Juliet, and the stage would be hers.
“A stunning performance,” Doctor MacNeill told Christy that evening at the cast party.
/> “Maybe not stunning,” Christy said, “but it sure was fun! Once I started acting, I actually had a good time.”
“Miz Christy,” Creed tugged on Christy’s arm, “could I have your writin’ name?”
“My writin’ name?”
“He means your autograph,” Ruby Mae explained, nudging Creed out of the way. “First, sign my program, Miz Christy.”
“No, mine!” Creed yelped.
“Write on mine, Teacher!” Bessie demanded.
“Suddenly, I don’t feel like a star anymore.” Christy winked at the doctor. “I feel like a teacher.”
“You ain’t a-goin’ to run off and be an actor for good, are you?” Creed asked nervously.
“No, Creed. Acting’s fun. But teaching’s my real love.”
Just as Christy had finished signing the programs, Oliver came over. “A class act!” he cried. “I knew you were a class act the minute I laid eyes on you!” He bowed and kissed her hand.
“Why, Oliver!” Christy said.
“You didn’t have to invite me on stage for that last curtain call,” Oliver said. “Not after the way I’ve been acting. But it was a real honor to share the stage with such a pro. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got business to discuss with Cora. I’m hoping she’ll let me direct our next play . . .”
“That was awfully thoughtful of you,” the doctor said.
“He’s a sweet man,” Christy said, “even if he can be a little difficult.” She pulled the doctor aside. “By the way, you and I had a deal. Fair is fair. It’s time for you to unveil your painting.”
The doctor groaned. “I was hoping you’d forget.”
“Not on your life.”
“Come on, then. It’s over in the corner, covered by a sheet. Just don’t let anybody else see it.”
Before he removed the covering, Doctor MacNeill held up a warning finger. “Don’t forget this is my first effort.”
“I understand. Let me guess—I’ll bet it’s a painting of the mountains. The view from your cabin porch.”
“Not exactly. Although my goal was to capture the beauty of the place.” Suddenly, he dropped the sheet. “I can’t. It’s too awful. It doesn’t even begin to do my subject justice.”
“Neil—” Christy grabbed the sheet, “let me see—”
She pulled back the sheet and gasped. A smile came to her lips. “It’s . . . it’s . . . me!”
“Not even close to you,” the doctor said. To Christy’s surprise, he was blushing. “I mean, the nose is all wrong. And the mouth. And look at your ears! They look like elephant ears! You have wonderful ears, and I made you look like a circus animal!”
“Neil.” Christy placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s wonderful. It’s the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen, because it came from the artist’s heart. May I keep it?”
“You really want it?”
“I’d be honored to have it.”
“But the ears—”
“Never mind the ears.”
“All right, then,” the doctor said. “But next time I paint your portrait, I’m getting the ears right.”
“It’s rather a mysterious smile,” Christy observed.
The doctor nodded. “That’s because I still haven’t unlocked the secrets of your heart. Of course, if you’d let me have a peek at that diary of yours . . .”
“Don’t count on it,” Christy said.
That night, after everyone else was fast asleep, Christy got out her diary and pen.
She didn’t want the magic of the evening to be lost, not ever. Somehow, she felt if she wrote down the right words, she’d be able to preserve the thrill forever:
It’s very late, and I know I should be asleep. But it’s as if the excitement of tonight is still with me—the applause, the bows, the bouquet of roses from the cast.
But the strange thing is, while it was wonderful to live out my fantasy of appearing on stage, that isn’t what I’ll take away with me from this night.
What matters most to me is that I faced my fear and rose above it. I had faith that with God’s help I could get through a difficult time. And I was right.
But now, looking back, I can see that it was just a small fear. The important thing is that I can apply what I’ve learned to other challenges—harder tasks and bigger fears. As long as I remember to try my hardest and trust in God, there’s no telling what I may accomplish!
Eighteen
Sorry, folks. It’s time for your spelling test,” Christy announced, “whether you’re ready or not.”
A week had passed. Christy was back in Cutter Gap. Everything had returned to normal. Under David’s watchful eye, the children had kept up with their lessons. After a couple of days of excitement following Christy’s return, everyone had settled down.
Even for Christy, the adventure in Knoxville now seemed like a dream. It was hard to believe she’d actually set foot on that big stage—let alone that she’d taken repeated bows to thunderous applause.
“Take out your blackboards, children,” Christy said. “I’m sure if you studied, you won’t have any trouble with these words.”
“Miz Christy?” Creed frantically waved his hand. “I got an idea.”
Christy put her hands on her hips. “You’ve stalled as long as you can, Creed. It’s time to face the music.”
“How about if we do some rememberin’ about goin’ to Knoxville first?” Creed pleaded.
“We’ve done that. Repeatedly. You got to show everyone your program. We talked about what it was like to ride on a train. Bessie showed us her drawing of Aunt Cora’s house. And Ruby Mae did a fine impression of me on the stage as Juliet. Don’t you think we’ve relived Knoxville enough for one week?”
Creed sighed. “I s’pose so,” he said, his face downcast. “But I just wanted to tell everybody about one more thing.”
Christy had seen Creed pull this trick a dozen times—always right before a big test. But he’d looked so disappointed, she decided to relent this time.
“All right. One more thing.”
Creed stood up so that everyone could hear him. “I just wanted to tell about what it was like the night of the big play.”
The class fell into rapt attention. Although there had been a little jealousy from the children who hadn’t been lucky enough to go to Knoxville, they never seemed to tire of hearing stories about what it had been like. Perhaps, Christy reflected, because they hoped someday they, too, would get the chance for an adventure of their own.
“The thing of it is,” Creed continued, “when Miz Christy walked out onto that stage for the first time, she looked just like a fairy princess in one of those stories she’s always a-tellin’ us. But the best part was, she was my teacher, my very own! I knowed she was afeared about goin’ out there, what with all the pranks and such. And there she was, sure as shootin’, only she wasn’t just Teacher anymore.”
Ruby Mae nodded. “Nope,” she said softly, “she was Juliet!”
“I tell you,” Creed said, “I thought my chest was goin’ to split right open, with all the pride I was feelin’!”
Listening to Creed, Christy knew with all her heart that this was the real stage where she belonged. This was a much tougher audience, to be sure. But their applause was what really mattered.
“Thank you, Creed,” she said. “That was very sweet. But you know when I feel the most pride? When I look out at all of you and realize I’m helping you learn and grow.”
Creed raised his hand again. “Miz Christy? I got another bit of tellin’ to do—”
Christy laughed. “Nice try, Creed. But you can’t stall forever. Maybe later, we can do some more telling. Right now, it’s time for some spelling.”
Her announcement was met with loud groans. But to Christy, it was a sweeter sound than all the applause in the world.
Goodbye,
Sweet Prince
Contents
The Characters
One
Two
&nbs
p; Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
The Characters
CHRISTY RUDD HUDDLESTON, a nineteen-year-old girl.
CHRISTY’S STUDENTS:
CREED ALLEN, age nine.
LITTLE BURL ALLEN, age six.
DELLA MAY ALLEN, age eight.
ROB ALLEN, age fourteen.
WANDA BECK, age eight.
BESSIE COBURN, age twelve.
WRAIGHT HOLT, age seventeen.
RUBY MAE MORRISON, age thirteen.
MOUNTIE O’TEALE, age ten.
CLARA SPENCER, age twelve.
LUNDY TAYLOR, age seventeen.
HANNAH WASHINGTON, age eight.
DAVID GRANTLAND, the young minister.
IDA GRANTLAND, David’s sister, and mission housekeeper.
ALICE HENDERSON, a Quaker missionary who started the mission at Cutter Gap.
DR. NEIL MACNEILL, the physician of the Cove.
BEN PENTLAND, the mailman for the Cove.
BIRD’S-EYE TAYLOR, the father of Christy’s student Lundy.
MRS. TATUM, a woman who runs a boarding house in El Pano.
JARED COLLINS, the owner of Great Oak Farm.
URIAH WYNNE, an employee on Great Oak Farm.
HANK DREW, the mailman for the area that includes Great Oak Farm.
KETTIE WELLER, a mother of twins.
SHERIFF BELL, the local sheriff.
PRINCE, a black stallion.
OLD THEO, a mule owned by the mission.
GOLDIE, Miss Alice’s mare.
One
Happy birthday!”
“Look how big he’s grown!”
“I can’t wait for him to open his presents!”
Christy Huddleston’s students crowded around the birthday boy, applauding and singing.
Stage Fright / Goodbye, Sweet Prince / Brotherly Love Page 7