Out of Bounds

by Annie Bryant

Avery’s Blog

  Wednesday

  Whoa! What else can go wrong? Charlotte and I went out to post fliers for the group hug at the Movie House. We got five or six put up, then we lost the whole pile of them. It figures! Charlotte thought I had them, and I thought she did. We found the fliers just where we’d left them (on the park bench outside of school). As we ran to get them, the wind picked up and the fliers went airborne. The fliers became flyers! It would have been funny except that right then it started to rain really hard, and by the time we were able to gather all the fliers, they were a runny mess! We had to go back to Isabel’s house to get the original, then go to the copy store to have 20 more made on neon green paper like the ones we’d just lost.

  When we went to pay for them, I realized I had left my wallet back at Isabel’s. Since Charlotte’s house was closer, she went home to get some money while I waited at the copy store so they’d know we weren’t trying to rip them off or anything. On Charlotte’s way out the door, she slipped on some wet leaves and fell right into the entire Abigail Adams football team who were coming from a late practice. It was awesome. Once again, Charlotte scored a 10! And boy, did she turn bright red. I think one of the boys was trying to talk to her, but she kept going, running up the street and slipping again on some more leaves. The boys were clapping and calling to her, but Charlotte didn’t even turn around, she was mega embarrassed.

  We finally got the money paid and we went out to put up the rest of the fliers. But by then, it had started to really pour. We got totally soaked. You could tell that the store owners didn’t want us dripping in their stores, but they took the fliers and put them up anyway because it was for a good cause.

  When we handed out the last group hug flier and headed out of the store, the clerk looked out the window. “This thing is tomorrow night?” he asked.

  “Seven p.m.” I answered.

  “I hope you have a rain date on your poster,” he said. “This storm is a nor’easter, you know.”

  “It’s rain or shine,” I said, pointing to the fine print on the flier.

  Charlotte had no idea what a nor’easter was. She hasn’t lived here long enough to experience one. I could tell she was curious, but I didn’t want to talk about it. The flier said rain or shine. But if the rain didn’t let up by tomorrow night, we’d just have to change the event from a group hug to a group swim.

  But I really hope the man in the store was wrong and the weather clears up. Katani told us that the tickets for the talent show are only about 80 percent sold, which Mom said would be good for a normal event, but not for this one. We’re going to have to sell out if we want to save the theater. One of the reasons we’re doing the group hug thing is so that we can get TV coverage and sell more tickets. We’re hoping to get a TV crew out there, and everyone knows that they’re much more likely to come out if it’s not raining on their heads.

  Which brings me to the final thing that happened. Because of the rain, they cancelled today’s championship soccer game. The final one between the Tornadoes and the Twisters. It better not get postponed to Sunday, that’s the Mexican brunch that Elena Maria is planning, and that I really want to go to. Plus, I was going to use the money I made reffing today’s game to go in on a talent show ticket with Charlotte. We decided to get one for Miss Pierce as a thank-you for helping us with the Houdini trick. Hope she comes.

  CHAPTER 21

  Group Hug

  If it gets any wetter, we’re going to have to build an ark,” Mr. McCarthy, the gym teacher, said laughingly. Except it wasn’t really that funny. Here they all were, holding hands, surrounding the theater, but they were freezing cold and dripping wet. Their hands were slippery, and people kept having to let go.

  The whole cast had agreed to come in costume, but, at the last minute, Katani told them to change back to their street clothes and rain gear. She couldn’t risk having the costumes ruined by the rain. They hadn’t even had the final dress rehearsal yet. The only ones in costume were Avery, who was in the ticket booth with Marty, and Betsy’s Sousa Brass Band, who were playing in the lobby with the doors open so that the theater huggers could enjoy the music.

  Katani had contacted every news station in the city. But, so far, no one had come. She was beginning to think that all her efforts were a bust. Great manager, she thought. I bet everybody is really mad at me for asking them all to come out in this storm. She was about to throw in the towel and send everyone home, when Maeve yelled over to her.

  “Omigosh, Katani, someone’s here.”

  Finally…Katani breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The camera crew from Channel Five had come—it was almost eight. Everyone was tired, ready to go home and take hot showers to warm themselves up. But when Mr. Taylor stood in the pouring rain and told everyone how grateful he was for their support, not one theater hugger gave up. Instead, they all rallied and began singing, “The sun will come out tomorrow,” until they were all laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Plus, the TV cameras were here! No one wanted to bail out now.

  It took the crew about ten minutes to set up. When they finished, the newscaster approached Katani, who was standing, armed with some prepared materials about the Movie House, why it needed saving, and how the proceeds from the talent show would help save the theater from going bankrupt.

  The newscaster scanned the sheet quickly and told Katani to look at him, not the camera, when she was being interviewed. Katani’s knees started to shake. She hadn’t realized that she would be on camera. This can’t be happening, she panicked. She thought that Mr. Taylor or one of the teachers would do the talking. But the newsman said that a kid talking about why they wanted to save the theater was much more interesting. The spotlight was on her.

  Katani saw Maeve give her a thumbs-up from the sideline. Katani blinked. No way could she let Maeve and her family down.

  If this whole thing fails, please don’t let it be because I got scared, she scolded herself. Suddenly, Maeve’s tip about how not to get scared when you have to speak in front of the class popped into her mind. “Breathe,” Maeve said, “Just breathe. You can’t be afraid when you breathe.”

  “Okay, young lady. It’s showtime!” And with that announcement, the peppy newscaster turned to face the camera.

  “You might want to ask why forty kids and their teachers from the Abigail Adams Junior High are hugging the Movie House theater in downtown Brookline in the middle of a nor’easter? Well, apparently, these kids are historical preservationists. That’s right. The old Movie House is about to go bankrupt due to intense competition from cinema multiplexes. And these pretty terrific kids have decided to do something about that…

  “Katani, why is the Movie House so important to the people of Brookline?”

  Katani remembered to look directly at the newscaster. “Saving the Movie House is important for a lot of reasons,” she answered. “There aren’t many of these old community theaters left, and this one goes all the way back to vaudeville, when it was a legitimate theater. Even the movie part goes back generations. My mother and father came to the Movie House on their first date.”

  “So, in essence, if that date hadn’t gone well, they might not have gotten married, and you might not be here right now.”

  Katani laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

  “I understand this theater is an historical landmark,” the newscaster said.

  “Yes, the building was designed in the Beaux Arts style, and there aren’t many of these buildings left.” Katani turned back to all the theater huggers and asked, “We all want the Movie House to continue in this community, don’t we, guys?” The Beacon Street Girls started the cheer, and everyone else joined in. Katani smiled and talked louder. “The theater is really educational. We learn lots of things from the movies. Things we don’t necessarily learn other places.”

  “Some people would argue that kids learn things they shouldn’t at the movies,” the newscaster said. “Violence, sex…the list goes on and on.”

&n
bsp; Katani was ready with her response. “Maybe some kids do. But Mr. Taylor doesn’t show those kinds of films. The lessons we’ve learned at the movies are valuable ones.”

  “Like what?” the newscaster wanted to know.

  “Literature, sociology, manners, history,” Katani said.

  “History? As in what kind of history?” the newscaster asked, interested.

  “When we were studying the Revolutionary War, Mr. Taylor showed us 1776, a musical about the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and April Morning, a really awesome movie about the Battle of Lexington.”

  “You have a point,” the newscaster said, smiling. “Well, I think you are all exceptional kids, both in your educational choices and your community service,” he said. “For that, I expect we can thank your parents, Abigail Adams Junior High, and, it appears, the Brookline Movie House, at least in part.” He turned back to the camera. “Remember, if you want to help these kids save the Movie House, you don’t have to come down here tonight in the rain. There are still tickets available to the seventh-grade talent show playing Saturday—all the proceeds will go to saving the Movie House theater!”

  Right on cue, Betsy’s Band began another Sousa march.

  “So, where do I buy a ticket?” the newscaster asked.

  Katani marched him to the ticket booth, where the reporter pulled out his money and gave it not to Avery, but to Marty, who took it and ran across the counter and gave it to Avery.

  “How can anyone resist!” the newscaster said.

  Avery put the money in the drawer and gave Marty a ticket. He ran across the counter again and pushed the ticket through the little window.

  “Wow!” the newscaster said. “With entertainment like this, I don’t see how anyone can stay home. Kids, dogs, magic, hip-hop, and a brass band. This show promises to have something for everyone. Definitely, my Special Pick of the Week: The Abigail Adams Seventh-Grade Talent Show at the Brookline Movie House…See it this weekend. And if you’re lucky, you may get to meet Marty, the Magic Dog.”

  The group huggers let go to give Marty and the newscaster a cheering round of applause.

  The camera stopped rolling, and the newscaster turned to Katani.

  “Good work,” he said when the camera went off. “Thank you for a great interview.” He shook Katani’s hand. Katani’s face glowed with pride.

  “Thank you for coming,” Katani said.

  “Good luck with the Movie House,” he said as he was leaving. “How many tickets do you have left to sell?”

  “A hundred and eighty,” Katani said.

  “A hundred and seventy-nine now,” Avery said.

  “Well, I hope this helps you all,” the newscaster said.

  They all thanked him.

  Nick walked up to Charlotte and whispered something. Charlotte turned to the group and announced: “Montoya’s is serving free hot chocolate for the next hour. To help the cause…If anyone wants to go in and warm up. It’s free.”

  “Well, let’s all go over to Montoya’s,” the newscaster said.

  The huggers marched in a team toward Beacon Street. Avery closed the box office and grabbed Marty.

  “No dogs allowed,” Avery said. “I’ll have to drop you off at home, little guy.” Marty barked and slurped her face.

  CHAPTER 22

  Dress Rehearsal

  By the day of the dress rehearsal, the seventh grade had sold ninety more tickets, Maeve informed everyone.

  Ethel Weiss had sold a ton at Irving’s, probably because she gave everyone a handful of Swedish Fish for every ticket they bought.

  People who’d seen the news show had called the box office directly. And somebody’s dad, who owned a computer company in Cambridge, wanted to reserve a block of seats together. Although it was open seating, Katani and Mr. Taylor decided to make an exception when the company bought twenty-five tickets.

  Ethel had started a trend. Party Favors, home of the best cupcakes in Brookline, put several fliers in their windows and made vanilla and chocolate cupcakes with Save the Movie House written on top. Everyone who bought a ticket there got a free cupcake. Montoya’s supplied free hot chocolate to anyone who made a donation or bought a ticket. The whole community was psyched. And Yuri, who said, “Americans are so generous,” gave free apples to everyone who bought a ticket. Mr. Taylor was completely emotional about all the support. He just couldn’t believe how much the people of Brookline wanted to save the old theater.

  The dress rehearsal was supposed to begin promptly at three o’clock, with the Hip-Hop Honeys. At three fifteen, the “Hoppettes,” which was how the backup dancers had begun refer ring to themselves, were still waiting for Kiki, star of stage and screen.

  Ms. Ciara was growing impatient. “Where is Kiki?” she asked, looking at her watch.

  “She’s waiting outside for her father,” Anna said.

  Suddenly, the doors to the auditorium burst open, and Kiki swished in and breezed down the aisle in a seriously bright, seriously tight red sequined dress.

  “Sorry,” she said in a tone of voice that really meant “NOT!”

  Isabel looked at the color of Kiki’s dress and groaned inwardly. We are definitely going to look like a Christmas tree special, she thought.

  Anna, who had been tapping her feet with annoyance, asked Kiki what took her so long. Kiki completely ignored Anna, as if she didn’t even exist. Anna put her hands on her hips and stamped her foot in disbelief.

  The Hoppettes had hoped to preview the video before the rehearsal, but there wasn’t any time. Instead, Kiki popped it into the machine and gave Dillon some brief instructions. The boy who was supposed to be in charge of the sound system had walked off the set after their last rehearsal because Kiki yelled at him, so now Dillon had to handle both lighting and sound, which was a lot for one person. Kiki kept promising to get someone else to help out, but word of Kiki’s temper had spread, and no one had volunteered for the job.

  Dillon was really uncomfortable, too. Kiki kept staring at him all the time. He hated that. And she was doing everything she could to come between him and Maeve. Not that there was anything to come between, really. The guys kidded him a lot about Maeve. “One date with you and she doesn’t want to date ever again,” his friends said. “Way to go, Dillon.”

  It was clear to Dillon that Kiki was just playing some kind of a weird game. She paid little attention to him at all unless Maeve was around. Then she hung on him like she owned him. He couldn’t wait until this talent show was over, so he could go play basketball.

  When the music started, the Hoppettes fell into position behind Kiki, who went on stage first, followed by Isabel, and then, finally, by Anna and Joline.

  Anna was right, Isabel thought. While Kiki looked good in her red dress, they looked like Christmas trees. All they needed was a few ornaments hanging off their dresses and the audience would start singing Christmas carols. Katani said it didn’t matter, though, because parents really just wanted to see their kids perform.

  The music started out slowly, with Kiki singing the melody and Isabel harmonizing. It sounded okay, but Maeve had been right when she suggested that it would have been better if the parts had been reversed.

  They sang the first verse of the song softly, and then Anna and Joline came on the stage. When they got to the chorus, Kiki turned to Dillon and yelled, “Hit it!”

  Dillon cranked the music and slipped the tape into the video machine for the next cue.

  A hip-hop beat took over and the girls started their dance routine. After another chorus, Dillon started the videotape per Kiki’s instructions. The projection screen at the back of Isabel’s set lit up with hundreds of dancing Kikis all edited together as if they were a chorus line…zillions of Kikis dancing across the entire stage.

  Kiki had gotten just what she’d wanted. Every time the Hoppettes crossed the stage, they were first blinded by the light from the projector, then covered with projected Kikis: Kiki in close-up, Kiki doing a high kick, Kik
i dancing her heart out. There were Kikis everywhere.

  Everyone in the audience was trying not to laugh.

  “I’d think this was very funny if that weren’t Isabel up there,” Avery said.

  “They should change it to a comedy show. They’d probably win first prize,” Charlotte said.

  Maeve didn’t say a word.

  They watched in horror as the Hoppettes, blinded by the light, ran smack into each other and collapsed in a heap.

  “That’s it,” Anna jumped up.

  Dillon flipped off the tape and turned off the music.

  “This wasn’t supposed to be The Kiki Show,” Anna said. “This was supposed to be the Hip-Hop Honeys!”

  Anna stood face-to-face with Kiki. “What is this video, anyway? I thought your father was this famous video maker.”

  “You know he is!” Kiki said.

  “Well this looks like someone’s father making home movies,” Anna yelled.

  “I edited it down,” Kiki said. “To just the essentials.”

  “You mean, all about Kiki the Wonderful, Kiki the Amazing, Kiki the Fabulous…”

  “Enough, girls!” Ms. Ciara stood up. “Do you need help solving this dispute?”

  “We were supposed to be in the video,” Anna said, turning back to Kiki. “Where are we?”

  “What are you worried about? You’re in there. Each of you still has your own close-up. It’s just more toward the end of the number than the beginning,” Kiki explained.

  “Prove it,” Anna said.

  Ms. Ciara spoke up. “The real issue here is safety. I think the light from the projector is blinding the Hoppettes. And I’m sure your intention was to project the video onto the screen and not the dancers.”

  There was some laughter from the audience. Kiki shot everyone a look, but her cheeks flushed. Maybe things were getting just a little out of hand. But, wait a minute. Look at all the work I’ve put in, thought an annoyed Kiki.

  “My dancers aren’t supposed to be in front of the projection screen, they’re supposed to be over there!” Kiki said pointing to a small space at the very back of stage left.