by Carol Gorman
“That’s it!” I said, and scooped them up.
When I explained it to Mom, she said I could borrow them for a day. Then I ran over to Zach’s house and told him what to do.
He looked doubtful but said, “I’ll try anything.”
I was almost as nervous for Zach as he was. After school Tuesday, practically the whole sixth grade showed up in the Little Theater to see the scenes.
There were three scenes to be presented. Dracula was last.
I felt a lot of eyes on me when Mary Ann and I sat down in the front row. Lisa obviously hadn’t told anyone about Zach kissing me, and everyone still thought he was in love with Cassandra. They were all waiting to see him bite her neck.
Ginger and Heather came in and sat down next to me. “Sure you want to sit in the front row?” Ginger asked me sympathetically.
I smiled at her. “Sure.”
She looked surprised, and I winked at Mary Ann, who grinned back.
The first two scenes were pretty good, I guess, but I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to them. I kept thinking about Zach backstage, probably in a cold sweat, waiting to start his scene in the coffin. I sure hoped my idea worked.
Finally, it was time for the Dracula scene. The curtain opened. The stage was set up in two parts. The left side was the cellar, and the right side was an old-fashioned parlor.
On the floor of the cellar was a crate. Lying across the crate was the closed coffin. Zach must be inside it now, I thought. Oh, I hoped my idea would work!
Cassandra, wearing a long gown, stood in the parlor talking to Al Pickering, who played her father.
“Father, dear, you needn’t be afraid to leave me alone tonight,” she said. “I shall be quite all right. Nothing evil can befall me. The housekeeper is here, after all, and I’m going to spend the final hours of the day reading.”
“Very well, my dear,” Al said. He had a phony mustache pasted above his lip, and it bounced when he talked. Mary Ann pressed a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh. “I shouldn’t be too late.” He walked stiffly to Cassandra and planted a kiss on her forehead. The kids in the audience laughed and a few of them hooted, “Oooooo!” He walked offstage.
Cassandra had some lines all by herself, imagining the man of her dreams. I kept looking at the coffin on the other side of the stage, thinking about Zach lying there inside. Was he okay?
Cassandra danced around the room with an invisible partner, telling him how she had dreamed of this night.
Finally, she moved downstage, right in front of me. She pantomimed opening the window. She looked out over the audience and said, “What a lovely night. The sky is filled with stars.”
That was Zach’s cue! Now he’d get to climb out of that dark, awful coffin. I watched the lid of the coffin, waiting for him to lift it and get out.
Nothing happened.
Cassandra waited, still gazing out over the audience. Her eyes darted sideways; she was probably trying to see if Zach was coming toward her.
The audience was silent.
Zach’s teacher, Mrs. Brown, sat in the front row. “Say the line again,” she whispered to Cassandra. “Maybe he didn’t hear you.”
Cassandra nodded and raised her voice. “What a lovely night. The sky is filled with stars.”
Still nothing happened.
What was wrong with Zach? Had the fright of being in the coffin paralyzed him?
Cassandra shifted her weight over one foot and looked uncomfortable. She frowned, then said very loud, “I said, What a lovely night! The sky is filled with stars!”
Nothing. A murmur ran through the crowd.
I had a terrible thought. What if Zach couldn’t breathe in there? What if the lid was so heavy—
“IT SURE IS A GREAT-LOOKING NIGHT OUT THERE!” hollered Cassandra. “LOOK AT ALL THOSE STARS, JUST HANGING RIGHT UP THERE IN THE SKY!”
The coffin lid was suddenly thrown back, and Zach, looking sleepy-eyed and sluggish, hauled himself out of the coffin.
I couldn’t believe it. Zach had fallen asleep!
The audience was nearly in a frenzy, knowing what was going to happen next. Zach pantomimed creeping up the stairs, then he tiptoed into the parlor.
He crept up behind her and opened his mouth. Two long, pointy fangs hung down. He drew her neck toward him and Cassandra rolled her eyes impatiently as if she was thinking, It’s about time you got here!
Zach pretended to bite deep into her neck, and the audience went crazy, whistling and clapping. I hooted louder than anyone! Ginger looked over at me, surprised.
Cassandra slumped into Zach’s arms, and as the curtain went down, the audience was on its feet, hooting and applauding.
The curtain came back up. The cast took their bows, and Zach looked right at me and winked. I winked back and laughed.
Ginger looked over at me again.
I shrugged at her, grinned, and clapped till my hands turned red.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“THIS TIME ON SATURDAY, we’ll be sitting in the stands at Wrigley Field,” I said, swishing a long stick in the stream. Zach and I sat on the log at the bottom of the ravine.
“Stuffing our faces with hot dogs and popcorn,” he said.
“And watching the best baseball players in the world. I’m going to get Mark Grace’s autograph.”
“Maybe we’ll catch a fly ball,” Zach said. “Would that be cool, or what?”
I sighed and watched the water sparkle in the late afternoon sun.
“I can’t believe the fashion show is over,” I said.
“You were great,” Zach said. “And thanks for your dad’s relaxation tape. I didn’t think it would work, but I made myself concentrate on it.”
“And you fell asleep!”
“Yeah.” Zach grinned. “It worked great.”
We didn’t say anything for a moment.
“Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“You know how you stopped my hiccups?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you know it would work?”
“I didn’t,” Zach said. “I just thought I’d try it.” He grinned again, and this time his ears turned red. “You didn’t mind, did you?”
“Gee, no,” I said. I could feel a dopey grin taking over my face. “It was fun. I mean, it was nice.”
“Yeah, it was.” He stared into the water, smiling.
“Hey, Zach?”
“Hunh?”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if it worked the other way?”
He turned and looked full into my face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you didn’t have the hiccups, and you … sort of kissed someone, and you got the hiccups? Like a toggle switch?”
Zach laughed. “Yeah, that’d be pretty funny.”
I moved a little closer to him and said softly, “You want to try it?”
Zach blinked and caught his breath. “Sure.”
I tipped my head a little to avoid bumping noses with him. He tipped his head in the same direction. Then we both tipped in the other direction.
“I’ll go this way, you go that way,” he said.
I nodded.
We both leaned in and kissed gently. I felt something like an electrical charge rush up and down my body, but I didn’t hiccup.
When he gently pulled away, I said, “Let’s try one more time.”
We kissed again. Still no hiccups.
Then we both said at the same time, “So it’s not like a toggle switch,” and we laughed.
Zach reached up and touched my cheek. “I just realized something: I’m kissing a supermodel. That’s really cool.”
“My modeling days are over, Zach.”
“That’s okay.” Zach grinned. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you if you weren’t a supermodel. It’s pretty fun.”
I grinned back. “As much fun as playing football?”
“Yeah.”
“I think so too,” I said. “What about baseball?”
“Hmmm,” he said. “I’ll have to think about that.”
I leaned over and kissed him one more time, just to help him make up his mind.
“Well,” he said, “it’s a real close second to baseball.”
I laughed. “Real close.”
“Maybe even tied for first,” he said.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I agreed. “Tied for first.”
About the Author
Carol Gorman, author of over thirty novels for young readers, is the recipient of five state children’s choice book awards, as well as many other honors given by teachers and librarians. Her books have been published in five foreign countries. A former middle school, high school, and college creative writing instructor, she travels around the country, speaking about her books and teaching writing workshops. She lives in Iowa with her husband, mystery writer Ed Gorman. Visit her at www.carolgorman.com.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1998 by Carol Gorman
Cover design by Mauricio Diaz
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9617-2
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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