The Water Fight Professional

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Chapter Twelve:

  Starlight, Star Bright,

  Stars Shine on the Stage Tonight

  The Starlight Mountain Theatre was up in the mountains about an hour away from our home. That explained the “Mountain” part of its name. The “Starlight” part was a result of the owner not putting a roof on the building. With such a combination, it was important to bring lots of bug spray. Unfortunately, the bug spray didn’t take care of the pest that was bugging me.

  “I know Joey’s secret,” Isabelle sang in my ear as we took our seats in the front row.

  “Zip it,” I whispered.

  Dad let Christine and me both invite friends to the opening night of Mom’s performance. Chance had refused to come until he found out we were camping overnight and white-water rafting in the morning. The next day’s adventure would make a little musical theater bearable.

  Christine leaned in toward Isabelle. “What secret?”

  Isabelle’s eyes sparkled.

  I glared. “There’s no secret,” I snapped. No secret she needed to know.

  Dad stared at me. “What secret?”

  My heart skipped a beat. My mind raced. What could I say? I opened my mouth.

  Out came music. Well, not really. It just sounded that way because the pre-show performance started.

  Mom spun onto stage. She had on a long dress and the top part of her hair was swept back into a knot. Singing, she sashayed into the crowd, winking at Dad as she passed us to climb up the bleacher-like rows.

  Her voice sounded flirty. Ick. It was some song from Annie Get Your Gun. She would star in that play later on in the summer.

  “She looks beautiful,” Isabelle murmured.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Chance slumped in his seat, completely bored.

  I twisted around just in time to see Mom sit on some stranger’s lap. “Dad,” I choked.

  Dad reached over Chance to squeeze my knee as if to say, It’s okay. She’s making money.

  I gave him my bug eyes, and he chuckled.

  Thankfully, Mom didn’t cuddle up to any other men. She made her way back to stage and took a bow as everybody cheered.

  Dad leaned over to me. “It’s all an act, Joe. It’s part of her job. She’s going to kiss some young punk during the play, too.”

  I couldn’t believe it. A kiss? Dad should be punching the “young punk’s” lights out. But no, he was going to watch it happen with his children and their friends. How disturbing.

  Chance chuckled at the look on my face. “Maybe you could take notes, Joey.” He motioned with his head toward Isabelle, as if I needed a reminder that I had to kiss her if I lost the bet.

  I spun to see if Isabelle had heard him.

  No, she was giggling and pointing to the stage with Christine.

  There was no way I was going to kiss that priss. I elbowed my best friend to keep him quiet. “Plays are dumb. You will never find me on stage pretending to be somebody’s boyfriend.” I turned back to the pre-show.

  A guy and a girl faced each other, acting as if they used to date and had just run into each other again.

  “So?” asked the guy. “Do you have a boyfriend now?”

  “Um … yeah,” said the girl. “What about you? Are you dating anyone?”

  “Uh … yes. And she’s here tonight to watch me perform.” He looked out into the audience. “There she is.” He pointed past us. After jumping off the stage, he grabbed a lady from the audience and pulled her to her feet in front of everyone.

  I laughed. Poor woman.

  “This is my girlfriend.” He presented her to the actress on stage.

  “Well,” the actress put her hands on her hips. “My boyfriend is here tonight, too. She walked toward our row of chairs looking at Dad.

  I laughed even louder. It would be hilarious if he had to go on stage.

  She grabbed Dad’s shoulder. “This is my boyfriend. No.” She let go of his arm and reached past him for Chance. “This is my … oh, wait …” She stepped into our row and put her hand on my arm. “This is my boyfriend.”

  Christine and Isabelle screamed with giggles.

  I shot Dad a help-me look, but he was laughing too.

  Chance patted me on the back as I passed—just glad the girl had let go of him, I’m sure.

  I trudged up the steps into the spotlight.

  The girl proudly presented me to the boy on stage.

  “So what’s his name?” The boy crossed his arms and puffed up his chest.

  “His name is …” she turned and stage-whispered to me, “What’s your name?”

  “Joe.”

  The girl put her arm around me. “His name is Joe—the perfect name for my new beau.”

  “Joe-beau,” the guy called me.

  Dad grinned from ear to ear.

  Chance rocked in his seat with laughter.

  I was never going to hear the end of this.

  “What does Joe-beau do?”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but my “girlfriend” answered for me. “He’s a circus performer.”

  Not a bad answer.

  “Is he a clown?” challenged the guy.

  “No,” the girl retorted. “He’s … he’s …” she turned to me. “Just show him what you do, honey.”

  The crowd roared then clapped for me.

  “Come on, Joey,” yelled Christine and Isabelle, now my biggest fans.

  Chance pumped the air with his fist. “Ooh, ooh, ooh,” he grunted.

  Dad pointed at me as if to say, That’s my boy. He was probably wondering how soon until I could get an acting job and start making money for him.

  My mom peeked at me from side stage.

  I cracked my neck and strutted forward. I motioned for my “girlfriend” and the other couple to step back. Once I faced the length of the stage, I took a few running steps, leaped into the air, and fell into a perfect dive roll. I rose and raised my arms overhead in victory.

  Dad jumped to his feet first.

  The rest of our row followed. Then the entire theater stood up. A wolf whistle split the air.

  Mom’s jaw dropped.

  My “girlfriend” kissed me on the cheek, and my face grew hot.

  “So?” She turned back to the other guy. “Can your girlfriend beat that?”

  I missed the rest of our act. I think the woman was supposed to be a singer, but I didn’t listen to her belt out any of the lyrics from “The Star-spangled Banner.” I was too busy reliving my moment in my head. I missed the whole first half of the play, as well.

  The sky was starting to get darker and we all huddled under blankets.

  Mom appeared in front of us during the intermission. “Do you guys want popcorn?” Words I never expected to come out of her mouth.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  Mom smiled. “The whole cast has to sell snacks.” She held a carton filled with bags of popcorn. “Don’t worry though. We’re having fish for breakfast.”

  Chance sent me a worried look. My friends forgot how weird Mom was.

  “If we catch any,” I explained to him. “Otherwise we have cereal and fruit.”

  Dad doled out the money, and we each grabbed a bag of popcorn. Were we on some strange new planet? Mom offering us popcorn, Dad spending money that he didn’t have to, me getting cheered for instead of Chance? I never wanted to leave.

  Mom stopped the girl who had played my “girlfriend” on stage. “Olivia, this is my son,” she said.

  Olivia blew me a kiss. “He’s a cutie.”

  Isabelle and Christine giggled.

  I fake gagged.

  Mom narrowed her eyes at my actions. “Yeah, real cute.” Then her face brightened. “But he sure can tumble. You’re good, Joey. Why don’t you want to sign up for gymnastics?”

  I glanced sideways at Isabelle to see if she was listening.

  She was. “He can do a back handspring, too,” she chimed in.

  Mom shook her head as if she were trying to wake up fro
m a dream. “You can do a back handspring? You only took one class.”

  “Yeah.” I looked away.

  The bad guy from the play made his way down our row. He was selling drinks with his popcorn.

  “Can I have a drink, Mom?”

  “Ask your dad. He’s the one with the money.” She moved off with Olivia to sell popcorn to some other kids.

  Bad Guy stopped in front of me. He wore a black wig and his jacket was just as dark. His beady eyes narrowed under thin eyebrows. “Where did you get your popcorn?” he asked in a menacing voice.

  I couldn’t help smiling. “My mom,” I said.

  “You’re only supposed to buy popcorn from me,” he growled.

  I pointed at Dad. “He’s the one with the money. We’ve already bought popcorn, but we need some drinks.”

  Bad Guy looked me up and down. “Very well,” he said at last.

  Dad bought drinks from him.

  “I wish I could take him home,” I whispered to Chance. “He just got Dad to spend even more money.”

  Up on stage, two college-aged kids wearing powdered wigs like George Washington’s announced a two-for-one deal. “Buy one piece of licorice, get two kisses free.”

  Girls squealed.

  Christine leaped out of her chair. “Please, Daddy, can I have some licorice?”

  “Christine.” I acted horrified. “It would break Parker’s heart if you let those guys kiss you.”

  Christine swatted at me but missed because I sat back in shock.

  Dad was pulling out his wallet again?

  What?

  He handed the girls two dollar bills.

  Isabelle and Christine stood on their seats and waved the money in the air to get the actors’ attention.

  The teenagers came running over.

  “Or maybe,” Chance said quietly, “it will break your heart when the guys kiss Isabelle.”

  That time I swatted and missed.