Perchance to Dream

by Lyssa Chiavari

  “I bet I could!” Kurt cried out, reaching to grab the pin cushion.

  “Oh, no, you couldn’t!” Grizz protested, holding the cushion away from him.

  Kurt set his jaw. “I can so! Here, I’ll prove it. How do you thread the needle?”

  Hiding her grin as she shared a look with Patricia, Grizz showed Kurt how to thread the needle and stitch on the lace.

  ❦

  “So, the bellboy asks the photon if he needs help with his luggage, and the photon says, ‘Oh, I don’t have any. I’m traveling light,’” Ben told Patricia as he was driving the next day, glancing over at her to gauge her reaction.

  Patricia threw her head back and laughed, one arm hanging out the window of the passenger seat of Ben’s Expedition. “Okay, that was good.”

  “Really? I haven’t driven you to madness yet with my dumb science jokes?” Ben asked with a grin.

  Patricia made a disbelieving noise, reaching over to playfully shove him.

  “Hey, watch it, I’m driving here!”

  Patricia held up her hands in submission. “Whoopsie, my bad.”

  Glancing quickly at her before turning his attention back to the road, Ben asked, “So, what subject are you doing for your French presentation?”

  “I’m thinking Le Chat Noir.”

  “Oh, yeah, that nightclub with the poster of the cranky looking cat?”

  Patricia giggled at his description. “Yes, that one. What about you?”

  “I’m gonna do Augustin-Louis Cauchy.”

  “Ooh,” Patricia said in an awed voice, then grinned and asked, “Who’s that?”

  Ben laughed. “He was a physicist and mathematician in the 1800s.”

  “Cool. A subject that definitely appeals to you.”

  “Yep,” Ben agreed. “I plan to be a physics major. Maybe even a physics and math double major.”

  Patricia pumped a fist in the air. “If you did both that would be so hardcore. Do it, do it!”

  Ben chuckled at her enthusiasm. “The college I’m going to has an awesome program—really great resources and labs. It’s gonna rock. But what about you? Do you think you’ll do any other major besides theater?”

  “Hm…” Patricia mulled that one over. “Maybe a French minor. Or something super cool, like classics!”

  “Classics would be awesome,” Ben enthused. “You could learn Latin! Man, I’ve always wanted to know Latin.”

  “Definitely.”

  Ben pulled into a cul-de-sac and approached a large beautiful Colonial two-story home—the Minolas’ house. Patricia had voiced her suspicions to Ben about Kurt not making the set after French, and, since Kurt was going to be at tutoring for a while, Ben had offered to bring Patricia by their house to see if he had indeed been fibbing.

  “Wow,” Patricia breathed as she undid her seatbelt. “You guys have a nice house.”

  Ben ducked his head shyly. “Thanks. His shed’s out back, but it’s easier to get to it through the house.”

  As they walked through the entryway, living room and kitchen, Patricia took in the cozy decorations and beautiful furniture. Ben pulled open a sliding door and led her through the nicely landscaped, fenced backyard to a large shed that looked like a miniature version of their house. “Here’s where he does all of his stuff,” Ben told her as he opened the door.

  Once inside, Patricia could see how much Kurt really did like carpentry. There were all sorts of tools hanging from pegs on the walls, plus a table saw and a large workbench. As she passed by a surfboard propped against the wall, she ran a hand along the sanded texture. “This is really cool.”

  “Aw, man,” Ben groaned, lifting a bunch of materials from the ground and placing them onto the workbench. “He hasn’t even started!” Sighing, he ran both his hands through his hair in a frustrated motion. “I’m sorry, Patricia. I should have known. I’ll make sure he does it in the next couple days.”

  Patricia shook her head, crossing her arms as she replied firmly, “Nope. I’m going to make sure he does it.”

  ❦

  “No, Kurt, you have to make it wider than that,” Patricia scolded the next day as she sat with Kurt in his shed, watching his work like a hawk. He’d been pretty ticked that they had sneaked into his workshop to find out that he’d lied, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

  Except complain.

  “But Trixie, it looks fine this way,” Kurt whined, setting the piece of plywood back down.

  “No, it doesn’t! The door in the Winchester Mystery House has a glass panel in the center. The cutout has to be wide enough so that the actors can walk through it and not snag their costumes or trip and knock it over. Do you want our play to look bad? Cut it wider!”

  Kurt heaved a sigh, lowering his safety goggles over his eyes once again and carefully lining up the wood to the blade. Patricia grimaced and covered her ears as the saw went off. The things I do for my play, she thought, hating how the sound of the saw made her skin crawl.

  When he was done, he slid it off the table and held it up for Patricia to test. Carefully she lifted her foot and stepped through the rectangular section that Kurt had cut out of the center of the “door.” She shook her head. “About an inch and a half wider, please.”

  “Listen, Pam,” Kurt began, pulling his goggles off and sitting down on a stool.

  “I’m listening, Kyle.”

  Looking confused for a moment, Kurt continued, “I don’t know why you are being so obsessive about this. Most people probably aren’t even going to have props and sets and stuff. No one is gonna care.”

  “Do you really take such little pride in your own work?” Patricia asked him, standing to touch the surfboard he’d made. “You wouldn’t want to make a crappy surfboard and have people see it, would you?”

  Kurt scoffed, stretching out his long legs. “Yeah, but that’s surfing! Something important! This play is boring. Theater is boring. I wish I’d never taken this class. I just can’t get into it.”

  “Maybe if you tried to be interested in it—read the script, did something—it wouldn’t seem like such a waste of time.” When he rolled his eyes, she pulled her hair away from her face in frustration. Finally, she said, in a much calmer tone, “Okay, Kurt, what are you into? Besides girls and surfing,” she added wryly.

  “Cool things, like music, and sports, carpentry, car shows… oh, and history!” Kurt added, putting his hands in the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt as he leaned back slightly.

  Patricia was taken aback. “Wait—history?” She was shocked that he found something so academic “cool.”

  “Yeah, dude, especially military history,” Kurt went on, eyes shining with excitement. “Ever see a Civil War reenactment? They’re radical.”

  Patricia couldn’t believe her ears. The military history thing made sense in a strange way, but he liked Civil War reenactments? “But Kurt, that’s theater!”

  Kurt looked at her incredulously. “Nah, babe, it’s history.”

  “But it’s acting! Someone had to put together the production—build the sets, do the lighting, the makeup, the costumes, even the script. And our play is historical, too.”

  Kurt looked at her and laughed. “But it’s about ghosts! That’s not history!”

  Patricia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and replied, “But Mrs. Winchester was a real woman, and her house is a historical landmark. Grizz worked hard to add a supernatural element to a real event—the 1906 earthquake.”

  Kurt watched her carefully for a moment, slowly nodding. “Yeah, I guess it is history, huh?”

  Seeing that she’d made a breakthrough, Patricia continued, “And theater can be really cool if you give it a chance. Like, there’s a ton of historical plays.”

  Kurt looked interested. “Whoa, really?”

  Patricia nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! In fact, Shakespeare wrote several—Henry V, Antony and Cleopatra, Julius Caesar…”

  “Sweet,” Kurt muttered, running his hand absently ove
r the plywood door. Then he sighed. “Argh—it’s just, this is all so much work. The play, tutoring, all the homework…” He slumped forward on the work table, burying his head in his hands.

  It’s your own fault, you big crybaby, Patricia thought with an eye roll. But aloud she said, “Okay, just think of it this way: you just have to work hard until the end of the year to achieve your goal.”

  Head still on the table, Kurt turned slightly to look at her. “My goal?”

  “Getting into ASU?” Patricia prodded.

  “But I’m already in.” Kurt lifted his head slightly. “It doesn’t matter if Mom and Dad cut me off. I’m getting an athletic scholarship—”

  “But for how much?” Patricia interrupted. She knew it couldn’t be a substantial amount. When he told her, she threw her head back and laughed. “That’s not even going to cover your dorm! And since your parents are loaded, I can guarantee you aren’t getting any other financial aid, right?”

  Kurt furrowed his brow. “Uh, yeah, I guess…”

  “So you have to do this, for your goal!” Patricia balled her hand into a fist to cheer him on. “Tell me, why do you want to go to ASU?”

  Sitting up straighter, Kurt said, “For everything, dude! Tempe is awesome, there’s sorority babes galore, and their water polo team is the best around! The guys and coach were so cool. I did an overnight with a couple of the team members. They were even talking about doing a theme house next year. And did you know, with the summer Olympics just a few years away, they scout out of college? I want to play in the Olympics!”

  Wow. The Olympics? Patricia blinked, surveying him for a moment or two. “Think of it this way: everything you have to do now is just work to achieve that goal,” she said. “Sure, it’s hard now, but it’s only until the end of the year. In the fall you can apply yourself right off the bat in all your classes, and get help right away if you need it. If you play it smart, you’ll never have to do something like this again.”

  Kurt sat up fully, turning on the stool to face her. “Whoa,” he breathed. “I guess I never thought about it that way before, but you’re right. I gotta do this—for water polo.” Then he sighed and scratched the side of his head. “No matter how much it sucks.”

  Patricia put a hand to his arm. “I know it’s a lot of work, and it can seem overwhelming, but it’s the same for me. I want to be a theater major when I get to college—I want to be a director someday. This is my chance to get up in front of everyone and show them that I can do it. Maybe if we work together, we can make both of our dreams come true.”

  Kurt smiled slightly. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Um, am I interrupting something?”

  Patricia turned quickly to see that Ben had entered the shed, holding a tray laden with snacks. “Oh, how sweet! Brownies!”

  “And lemonade,” Ben added with a smile, coming over to set the tray down on the workbench. “Thought you guys might need some nourishment. Mom baked these last night.”

  Patricia took a brownie and put a hand to her mouth as she bit into it. “They’re delicious!”

  “Yeah, thanks, bro,” Kurt said, grabbing two at once.

  Ben laughed, though Patricia noticed that it sounded a little strained. He poured a glass and handed it to Patricia. “No problem,” he said. “So, how goes it?”

  Before Patricia could reply, Kurt said enthusiastically, “Great! Just need to make this section a little wider, right, Patty?”

  Patricia looked at Kurt in surprise. Then, with a nod, she replied, “Right!” Seeing Ben’s curious look, she smiled and shrugged.

  ❦

  Grizz’s eyes widened as Kurt and Ben carried in the set pieces at their next rehearsal. “Wow, he actually did it,” she said to Patricia under her breath.

  Patricia nodded happily. “Yeah, don’t they look nice?”

  Grizz stared at the pieces as they went by. “Our play is gonna be so badass.”

  “Yo, Zelda!” Kurt called as he set down the door. “I got the stuff you wanted.”

  “For the last time, it’s Grizz!” Her annoyed expression faded as he held a plastic bag out to her. Peering into it suspiciously, she saw that he’d gotten all of the paint and supplies she’d asked him to. “Wow. Um, this is great, thanks. Okay, why don’t you help me paint this door, and then you can stitch some more embellishments onto Phillip’s uniform.”

  “Sure thing,” Kurt agreed easily, pulling out the paint and brushes.

  “Wow, Kurt, it looks so good,” Natalia cooed as she came over to admire his handiwork.

  Kurt flashed a grin, twisting the cap off of a paint tube. “Thanks, babe.”

  “One second, Kurt!” Patricia called. “We need to lay down newspaper or something so we don’t get paint on the floor. There’s some in the back, I’ll get it.”

  “I’ll help,” Ben offered, hurrying after her.

  As they gathered old newspaper from the storeroom, Patricia commented, “Kurt sure is a lot more eager to help.”

  Ben nodded, holding out his arms to let her place more paper atop the stack he was carrying. “I know. He actually seems excited about the play now.”

  “Maybe he actually listened to me,” Patricia mused as she closed the door behind them.

  Ben turned to her curiously. Seeing his look, Patricia quickly said, “I gave him a pep talk the other day. Well, it was kind of more like a smackdown. I think he may actually realize now that he will be screwed if he doesn’t do his work.”

  Ben broke into a surprised grin. “I hope so. That’ll be better for everybody.”

  Patricia let out a breath with a laugh. “Don’t I know it.”

  As Grizz and Kurt delved into painting, Patricia set the stage with the props that were ready to go, helping the actors to mark out their places and rehearse.

  “Okay, remember, reach for the candlestick and hold it just so”—Patricia demonstrated to Nicole—“so that the audience can still see your reaction. Okay?”

  Nicole nodded, taking hold of the candlestick. “Got it.”

  “Okay, let’s give this part a run-through, then.” Patricia skipped down the steps and took a seat.

  After the actors had finished, Ben turned to her. “That was great. It’s really coming along.”

  Patricia smiled proudly. “You think so?”

  Ben grinned in return. “Definitely.”

  “Ben!” Kurt suddenly called from where he was busily painting. “Do me a favor, bro!”

  Ben looked over to him suspiciously. “And do what?”

  “I’ve got a Spanish test this week, can you grab my flash cards from my backpack and quiz me?”

  Ben looked over at Patricia, impressed. He stood and retrieved the flash cards from Kurt’s backpack. “All right, I’m gonna give you the Spanish first and you give me the English. Ready?”

  “Hit me,” Kurt replied, not looking up from his work.

  Ben cleared his throat. “La corbata.”

  “Tie,” Kurt replied without hesitating, furiously swiping his paintbrush.

  “Good.” Ben flipped to the next card. “Los zapatos.”

  “Uh… shoes?” Kurt asked, head cocked to the side.

  “Ding ding ding!” Ben called out with a grin. “Okay, el estante.”

  Kurt was silent, tapping his paintbrush thoughtfully. “Um… uh…”

  “C’mon,” Ben encouraged, flipping the card over to look at the English answer, “you can do it. It’s found in a store, kind of important…”

  Kurt suddenly threw his hands up in the air. “Rack!”

  “Woot!” Ben cheered. “You got it!”

  Patricia watched the scene and smiled, glad to see Ben so excited about Kurt doing well. Kurt really seemed to want to make a change to his life.

  “Wow, Kurt,” Natalia called from her spot on the stage, “you really are maravilloso!”

  Kurt turned toward her and grinned. “Gracias, chica!”

  Patricia rolled her eyes and returned to her notes. Then again,
the more things change, the more they stay the same.

  ❦

  A couple weeks later, Patricia and Grizz were looking over the costumes, which were just about finished, except for Peter’s jacket and Phillip’s uniform.

  “If someone had some really nice dress pants,” Grizz mused, “we wouldn’t have to buy or make anything.”

  “I’m sure one of the guys or their dads will have something like that,” Patricia told her, patting her on the back. “Don’t worry!”

  “Hey, guys,” Ben greeted everyone as he walked in the room with Kurt. “Wow, the costumes are looking great,” he commented, crouching to look at them closer. “What do you think, Kurt?”

  “Sweet,” Kurt agreed, seeming distracted. “Oh, hey, Trixie, I checked out the Winchester Mystery House this weekend, and you were right, it is history. That place is off the hook, man!”

  Patricia lifted her eyebrows at Grizz, who looked equally shocked. He actually went there? Because of her play? And he liked it? Patricia felt herself smile at the thought. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  Kurt grinned, lifting his hands enthusiastically. “Totally! Staircases leading to nowhere, doors that open to a straight drop down, a room with that many fireplaces? So trippy.” Then he lowered his hands and looked at Grizz with furrowed brows. “Oh, but Rizzo, there’s, like, a problem with your script.”

  Grizz bristled at the nickname. “What problem?” she scoffed incredulously.

  Kurt stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, the Winchester rifle wasn’t used during the Civil War. That was the Henry rifle. Oliver Winchester didn’t buy the rifle company until after the war—1866. His most famous gun model came out in 1873 and was called ‘the gun that won the West.’ So the ghosts wouldn’t be from the Civil War. They’d be, like, Rangers, or cowboys and outlaws, or something.”

  Patricia inhaled sharply. She couldn’t believe her ears. If that was true, then poor Grizz’s script…

  Patricia turned to gauge Grizz’s reaction. She was just sitting there, jaw set and eyes narrowed. “What?” she finally said with a disbelieving laugh. “That can’t be right.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket to do an online search.