Crushing on a Capulet

by Tony Abbott

  The nurse breathed in deeply, then nodded. “Good. I will tell her that.”

  “And tell her this,” said Romeo. “To come this afternoon to Friar Laurence’s cell … to be married.”

  “Married?” she gasped. “Oh, truly?”

  “Truly,” said Frankie with a grin. “He’s serious.”

  I nodded. “In fact, he even hired Friar Laurence to plan the wedding. It’ll be this afternoon.”

  Well, the nurse smiled so big that her grin just about met behind her ears. “Juliet shall be there!” she said.

  “And after dark tonight,” said Romeo, “I will arrange to visit her at her house. Her family will not see me.”

  “And Frankie and I will be lookouts,” I said. “Tybalt is, like, everywhere. Plus, if Mr. Capulet sees you, he won’t exactly throw a party for you, either.”

  “Throw a sword, maybe,” said Frankie.

  “And another thing,” I said. “Unless you plan to spend the rest of the day practicing the high jump, maybe you should think about bringing some kind of ladder to get over the wall and up the balcony.”

  “Good point,” said Frankie. “And if we keep following you around, I want an easier way up that wall.”

  Romeo’s eyes lit up. “Splendid idea, my friends. Find a rope ladder and set it up in Juliet’s garden for tonight.”

  “Just the thing!” said the nurse. “I shall tell Juliet what we have said here. But sir, you must know that the nobleman, Paris, has asked for Juliet’s hand in marriage. He will not like this. Neither will Juliet’s cousin Tybalt.”

  Romeo smiled, but his thoughts were somewhere else. “Thank you for the warning. Now, give my love to thy lady. We meet later.”

  “A thousand times, sir!” she said, and hustled back down the dusty road toward the city gates.

  As Romeo headed back into the Friar’s hut, Frankie turned to me. “Dev, it looks like the scene is ending. What do you want to do?”

  “How about we go find a ladder?” I said. “I mean, it’s strange, but Romeo and Juliet seem to like us and trust us. We actually seem to have a real part in this play.”

  “Just like Mr. Wexler wanted,” said Frankie. “Let’s go find a ladder!”

  So, as best we could in our funny clothes, we raced each other back to the city.

  Chapter 9

  It was amazingly easy to find a rope ladder.

  There was one just sitting in a pile of trash behind a row of shops. It was as if we were meant to find it.

  The ladder was not in great shape, but we figured it would hold our weight the next time we hauled ourselves over that garden wall.

  After that, Frankie and I got totally lost.

  The streets of Verona snaked around here and there and crisscrossed like a spiderweb. Trying to find our way back to the Capulet house, Frankie and I felt like mice in a maze.

  Luckily, we met our old friends Benvolio and Mercutio on the way.

  “Hey, dudes!” I said. “Are we glad to see you!”

  “Ah, Frankie and Devin,” said Mercutio. “Have you seen our elusive friend Romeo?”

  I glanced at Frankie. I wasn’t sure whether these guys were supposed to know about Romeo and Juliet yet.

  “Um … maybe,” I said.

  “He left us high and dry last night,” said Benvolio. “And so he probably doesn’t know that Tybalt—”

  “Tybalt,” Mercutio interrupted, “that angry prince of cats—”

  “What about Tybalt?” asked Frankie.

  “He has sent a challenge to Montague,” said Benvolio. “He says he wants to duel Romeo.”

  I nearly fell over. “A duel? As in a fight?”

  “With sharp and pointed blades,” said Mercutio. “Tybalt is angry with Romeo for breaking into the Capulet party last night and dancing with his cousin Juliet.”

  I wondered how mad Tybalt would be if he knew that Romeo was planning to marry his cousin Juliet?

  It was almost funny.

  But not quite.

  “Tybalt is a master swordsman,” said Mercutio. “I wouldn’t want to tangle with him. If you see young Romeo before we do, tell him to see his father. He can give him the message.”

  Benvolio nodded. “Now come, Mercutio, let us leave this place. Devin, Frankie, be safe!”

  The two men slid off into a side street and were gone.

  “Devin, I feel very weird just now.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “I think these tights are shrinking. My toes hurt way bad.”

  “Not that,” she said. “I feel weird because we have this huge secret and can’t tell anybody. I really don’t want to take sides in this thing.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said. “It’s strange how we’re totally in the middle. We’re like the only friends of both Romeo and Juliet. Anyway, come on. Let’s get this ladder to Juliet’s house. It must be getting late.”

  We wandered once more through the narrow streets until we found ourselves in front of the Capulet mansion. By the smell of it, it was about lunchtime. I’m pretty sure I smelled those meatballs Italy is so famous for.

  As we scurried around the back to the garden wall to test out the ladder, we found Juliet in her usual spot on the balcony. She looked like she was getting ready to do one of those long talking-to-herself speeches.

  When no one was looking, Frankie tossed the ladder over the outer wall. We climbed over the top and into the garden, then flung the ladder up on to the balcony.

  “Oh! Frankie! Devin!” said Juliet. “The clock struck nine when I sent the nurse, and she’s not back yet!”

  Frankie pulled herself up to the balcony. “Maybe she got lost? We did.”

  “Plus she’s a slow walker,” I said, coming up after.

  “The messengers of love should be swift!” said Juliet, “not lumbering like an old mule. From nine till noon is three long hours! What if she never comes? Oh, I shall die on my balcony waiting forever for her—”

  At that moment, the plodding steps of her nurse echoed up the inside stairs to her room. She came in huffing and puffing. “Oh, my, oh, dear—”

  “Nurse!” cried Juliet, rushing to her. “What news do you bring?”

  “Well, I—”

  Juliet gasped. “You look sad. Is there sad news?”

  “No, no …”

  “Romeo does not love me?”

  “It’s not that.…”

  “He is dead! Oh, my dear, dead Romeo—”

  “Juliet!” shouted the nurse. “I’m tired! It makes my bones ache!” She huffed and puffed some more.

  Juliet gave her a look. “I wish you had my bones and I had your news. Speak, good nurse, speak. Speak!”

  “I can’t speak!” she said. “I am too out of breath!”

  I laughed. “How can you say you’re out of breath when you have enough breath to say you’re out of breath?”

  The nurse gave me a piercing look. “Should you not fetch that rope ladder?”

  “We already got it,” I said. Then I buttoned my lip.

  Meanwhile, Juliet was pacing faster and faster across the balcony. It was like watching a tennis game with only one player, who was rushing to hit the ball on both sides of the net. Finally, she stopped and stared at the nurse. “What does Romeo say of our marriage?”

  “Oh, my head aches!” said the nurse.

  “Romeo says his head aches?” said Juliet.

  “If he heard this conversation he might,” I whispered to Frankie. “Can’t the nurse just come out with it?”

  She chuckled. “Not according to the play. She keeps Juliet wondering for a long time.”

  “But what does Romeo say!” Juliet demanded finally.

  The nurse took a deep breath. “Like an honest gentleman, and a courteous and kind and handsome gentleman, he says … wait … where is your mother?”

  “Where is my mother?” Juliet repeated. “Why does Romeo want to know where my mother is? She’s inside where she should be—what did Romeo say?”

&
nbsp; The nurse breathed out heavily. “Well, then, now. He says to go to Friar Laurence’s little cell, which is quite small and could use some tidying up, if you ask me—”

  “Out with it, lady, or Devin and I will tell her!” Frankie yelled.

  The nurse blinked. “Fine, then. Romeo says to go to Friar Laurence’s cell this afternoon.”

  “And?”

  “And Romeo will be there.”

  Juliet grunted. “And?”

  “And … he’ll be your husband and you will be his wife—”

  “Yay!” shouted Frankie. “She got the message out!”

  The nurse smiled. “Now, go test that ladder, so that later, Romeo can climb up to see his new bride. For now, Juliet, go must you quickly to the friar’s cell—”

  Zoom! Juliet was out of there in a flash.

  The breeze from her leaving caused the book to flip to the next page. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “What’s going on?” I said.

  Frankie glanced at the page. “Whoa! Hurry, Devin!”

  “What?”

  “Time passed. We’ll miss the big wedding!”

  She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back down the rope ladder. We raced after Juliet through the streets, and around corners, following her pink heels.

  “Man, can she run,” I said, breathlessly.

  “It’s the love thing,” added Frankie, huffing and puffing in her long dress.

  As we raced through the gates, I caught sight of Benvolio and Mercutio again. It looked like they had too much lunch or something and it wasn’t agreeing with them. Mercutio was looking especially sour.

  “Keep going,” said Frankie. “This scene doesn’t involve them.”

  Just as we hurried out the gates, I heard the sharp sound of breaking glass.

  “Frankie, I’m worried,” I said, racing down the dusty road to Friar Laurence’s place. “I mean, Romeo and Juliet getting together is nice and all, but all these guys with swords are really starting to bother me—”

  “No time for that now—wedding—wedding!”

  And it was.

  By the time we spotted the little stone hut, Friar Laurence was in the garden holding the pair by the hands. “Ah, witnesses!” he said when he saw us.

  “Witnesses to trouble brewing in town,” I said. “I think we’d better hurry this whole thing along.”

  “Yes,” said Friar Laurence. He turned to Romeo and Juliet. “I, too, worry that we will be discovered.”

  “Friar, close our hands with holy words,” said Romeo, gazing at Juliet. “Then death do what he will. It is enough that I may call her mine.”

  Death? I didn’t like the sound of that. Frankie was frowning something awful, too. We both had a feeling something was going on in Verona, and it wasn’t good.

  Even as we stood there in the garden, the nice bright streaks of light that started the day were beginning to fade. Clouds were gathering on the distant horizon. And a strange wind whistled through the garden flowers.

  “Frankie,” I whispered, “what’s going to happen?”

  “I can’t read ahead,” she said, glancing at the page we were on. “The words are too blurry. And I don’t think we should flip ahead. We’d miss the wedding.”

  I shuddered. “Okay. But I’m starting to be worried.”

  If something bad was brewing, Romeo and Juliet sure didn’t notice. All they saw was themselves in love and wanting to get married.

  The friar clasped their hands. “We’ll make short work of this. Smile the heavens upon this holy act!”

  I looked up at the heavens, but the clouds were darkening by the minute, turning from gray to black when the friar finally took the two lovebirds into his cell.

  “Frankie, I hate to say this, but I think Mr. Wexler was right. I have a feeling this story isn’t going to end too well.”

  “But it’s different now because we’re here. Maybe we can make things turn out all right. Maybe we could give what might be a tragedy a happy ending.”

  “Cool. I like those much better,” I said, managing to give her a grin. “All right, then, let’s get back to town. I think the two lovebirds want some privacy.”

  But as we hurried back, Frankie and I realized that things in town were probably not going to be so lovey-dovey.

  We were right.

  Chapter 10

  We rushed through the gates and right away heard loud shouting coming from the main square where the play had started.

  Mercutio, still looking like he had eaten too much lunch, was stumbling across the cobblestones away from Benvolio.

  “Stay, Mercutio,” said his friend. “Let’s go home. The Capulets—”

  “I don’t care if it’s Capulets!” snarled Mercutio.

  “You should care,” said Frankie. “Here comes Tybalt. And the look on his face is not at all about being friends.”

  “Too late,” I said.

  The Capulets were with us in an instant, led by black-suited Tybalt himself. He gripped the handle of his sword, his eyes flashing. “Gentleman, a word with you!”

  “Why not a word and a fight?” said Mercutio.

  “Whoa, simmer down, Merc,” I said. “We’re all just walking here. Chill out, why don’t you—”

  Tybalt glared at Mercutio as if he couldn’t hear me. “A fight? I’ll give you one if you want one. You are a friend of Romeo, are you not?”

  Benvolio stepped forward. “Let us go to some private place, or reason calmly, or else depart.”

  Mercutio stood his ground. “I will not budge.”

  “Wrong answer!” said Frankie. “Budging is, like, the perfect thing to be doing right about now.…”

  “Besides,” I added, “you’ve got lots of nice spots in this city. Why not go sight-seeing? I hear they make the best jumbo meatball grinders two streets over.”

  “Meatball?” said Tybalt. “Are you calling me a name, young sir?”

  “Uh-oh,” I whispered. “This isn’t going well.”

  Tybalt sneered. “And so! Here comes Romeo.”

  We all turned.

  Romeo came skipping into the square, looked at himself in the fountain, and smiled at his reflection.

  I nudged Frankie. “Oh, man! Nobody knows it, but he just married Juliet.”

  Frankie nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on Romeo. “Which makes him … Tybalt’s cousin.”

  Romeo kept grinning into the water. Finally, lifting his head up and seeing us all watching him, he came bounding over as if he were a puppy just called for his supper. “Tybalt!” he said.

  “Romeo!” Tybalt snarled. “Thou art a villain!”

  Romeo stopped, but held on to his smile. “Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee excuses my rage at such a greeting. Therefore, farewell—”

  Tybalt stepped in his way. “Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me. Therefore, turn and draw your sword.”

  Romeo froze. “I never injured thee, Tybalt. I love thee better than thou canst understand. And so, good Capulet, whose name I hold as dearly as my own, I go.…”

  Romeo turned once more to walk away.

  “What, Romeo?” snapped Mercutio. “Will you let your enemy go by? Tybalt, will you just walk away?”

  Tybalt turned to Mercutio, his hand on his sword.

  The sliding of Mercutio’s sword from its sheath happened so fast that Frankie and I barely had a chance to step back. Tybalt’s sword was out even faster.

  Romeo shouted. “Put down your swords. Stop this!”

  “Or use plastic ones!” I said. “They bend really easy!”

  But Mercutio and Tybalt were already at it, clashing their very real, very metal blades together.

  Clank! Cling! The air was silver with swords.

  Romeo rushed into the mess to try to part the two. “Gentlemen, stop this now. The prince hath forbid fighting in the streets. Hold off, Tybalt. Stop, Mercutio—”

  But even as Romeo stepped between them, holding his arms high
to stop them, Tybalt lunged at Mercutio, whipping his sword right under Romeo’s arm.

  “Ahhh!” cried Mercutio, as the blade struck him.

  Frankie screamed. I jumped back, pulling her with me. “Pointed swords!” I screamed. “Get us out of here!”

  But it was too late, Mercutio stumbled back against Benvolio, clutching his side. Tybalt’s gang pulled him away.

  “I’m hurt,” growled Mercutio, sinking to the ground.

  We all crowded around him. Benvolio knelt next to him. “How bad is the wound?”

  “Just a scratch,” said Mercutio. “A scratch. But ’tis enough.” His face tightened, and the smirk left his lips.

  “Someone get a doctor!” said Frankie. “Is it bad?”

  “No,” said Mercutio. “Not too bad. ’Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but ’tis enough. It will do. I am dying—oh! Montagues and Capulets! A plague on both your houses! Romeo, why did you come between us? I was hurt under your arm!”

  “I thought I could stop you both,” Romeo said.

  “You stopped only me. And Tybalt stopped his sword in my side!” Mercutio said, trying to make a joke.

  We pulled him to the fountain and gave him some water to drink. He sipped a bit, then cried out again, “A plague on both your houses! Benvolio, take me inside or I’ll faint—”

  Benvolio and some others picked him up and carried him into the nearest house. Romeo stood staring at the cobblestones at his feet. “He’s hurt for me. I did this.”

  “Hey,” I said, “you tried to stop it.”

  “It’s Tybalt’s fault for stabbing him when you tried to pull them apart. He cheated,” said Frankie.

  “Tybalt,” said Romeo. “Since I’m married to his cousin Juliet, he’s my cousin, too. For only an hour, he’s been my cousin. Yet, he does not know.”

  Breathing heavily, his face red, Benvolio came out of the house where they carried Mercutio. “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead. But watch! Here comes the furious Tybalt back again—”

  Romeo whirled on his heels. “Not as furious as I!” he snapped. “Tybalt, you villain! You took Mercutio. Now either thou or I, or both, must go with him!”

  Tybalt swung his sword at Romeo. “Thou wretched boy, thou shalt follow thy cousin!”

  “No!” cried Frankie. “Will you guys stop this!”