We already elected Mercedes to be the director, and today we’re voting on which play to perform. Anyone interested in offering a suggestion goes to the front of the classroom to present their selection and give a few reasons for why they picked it.
I don’t really care what play the class chooses as long as whichever one gets selected has a very, very, very small part for me.
Kiera and Kylie give their suggestion first. “We think our production should be …” Kiera and Kylie pause dramatically. Because of their names and because they look almost exactly alike, people always mistake them for twins. When that happens, they giggle and clasp hands as if they’re two lost souls reunited at last.
“Yes?” Ms. Day prods. She doesn’t seem annoyed, but she has to be. Apart, Kiera and Kylie are sweet. Together they’re like a double scoop of chocolate chip ice cream—a little too much for one sitting.
“High School Musical!!” they scream in unison, jumping up and down.
“Good suggestion.” Ms. Day writes High School Musical on the board.
A few more kids go, and the list grows long.
Hamilton. (Does anyone sing and dance?)
Peter Pan. (Where will we get a crocodile?)
The Giver. (Too sad.)
Sleeping Beauty. (Only if it’s a feminist retelling.)
Romeo and Juliet. (Shakespeare and romance, ugh.)
A Midsummer Night’s Dream. (We’re not British.)
I can tell Ms. Day is partial to the Shakespeare recommendations, but before she can close out the suggestions for voting, Mercedes and Addie pop their hands into the air.
“Okay. Last one. Come on up,” Ms. Day says.
Addie and Mercedes stand.
On their way to the front of the room, Mercedes grabs Theo by the collar and says, “All three of us came up with this idea.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think Marvel’s going to like it,” Theo mumbles, and gives me an apologetic grimace.
I immediately perk up. What do I have to do with it?
The three of them get situated at the front of the room. Addie gets the ball rolling. “This year, we have a unique opportunity to do something special and include ALL the members of our class.”
“Yep, that’s right. All the members of our class.” Mercedes practically radiates with pride at her own soon-to-be-revealed genius, and I get an uneasy feeling. I can’t figure out how I’m involved in their plot. I’m only participating in the play in order to pass sixth grade. I have no plans to do more than the bare minimum required for that single goal.
“Soooo …” Addie draws out her vowels for effect. (There actually has been a lot of drama during these suggestions. You’d think we could save it for the performance.) “We think we should do a play called Heidi.”
I relax a little. I’m unfamiliar with their suggestion, but it sounds harmless.
“Never heard of it,” Jamie calls out. “Sounds boring.”
“Jamie, we discussed safe space rules,” Ms. Day says, but I don’t know why she bothers. He never listens to anything.
Mercedes takes over. “It’s a story about a girl who goes to live with her grumpy goat-herder grandfather in the Swiss Alps. Because the story is set in a small cabin in the mountains, the set will be super easy—”
Addie interrupts Mercedes just as I’m mulling over goat herder and trying without success to connect the dots. “And most importantly, we have our very own goat!” Addie points to Butter.
The classroom erupts in excited chatter.
Butter stops eating Cheerios and looks around as if she knows everyone is talking about her.
I stare at them, horrified by their suggestion. I try to get their attention by bulging my eyes out at them and shaking my head no vehemently, but all three of them ignore me on purpose.
“Creative!” Ms. Day says and writes Heidi on the board. “Time to vote.”
Good grief.
Ms. Day passes out little pieces of paper and tells us to jot down our first choice.
Kiera and Kylie are asked to collect votes. It’s like having twin ushers on either side of the room. I have to give Ms. Day credit. It’s truly efficient. They make short work of the collecting, and Ms. Day tells us to do some group work while she counts the votes.
Addie, Mercedes, and Theo use the downtime to talk.
Butter, sensing an opportunity to demand attention, sticks her nose toward Addie for petting. Addie obliges her, stroking between her eyes and then scratching the side of her cheek.
“So … what do you think of our brilliance?” Mercedes asks, proud of herself.
Her idea is bonkers, not brilliant. “Butter can’t be in a play. The sounds of the theater will scare her. She’ll spend the entire performance fainting.”
“If she can come to school, she can be in a play,” Mercedes says firmly. “Besides, I’ve got a whole protocol figured out.”
I’m skeptical, and I’ve got an awesome eyebrow raise. I use it.
“For real, I’ve got it all planned out. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Mercedes says.
That’s like telling me not to breathe.
“And the winner is …” Ms. Day says, and the whole class immediately gets quiet and focuses on her. “Heidi! It looks like Butter has made quite an impression on everyone.”
Mercedes beams as if she’s won the lottery. “Yes!”
Theo and Addie give each other high fives.
“Aw, come on!” Jamie bellows.
The whole class starts chattering, excited about the show. No one has even asked me if I’ll let Butter do it.
I get lost in my thoughts, thinking about how I’m going to get Butter out of this mess. I try to figure out a way I can break the news that there’s no way Butter can perform in the show. I mean, she has issues with noise and she’s not even fully trained yet. How will she be part of a play?
All of a sudden, I hear Mercedes say, “Marvel will be perfect!”
“Huh?” I say, coming back to the present.
“You’re going to play Peter, the supporting lead. He’s a goat herder and in all the Swiss Alps scenes, so it’s perfect. With you playing Peter, Butter’s handler will always be on the stage with her. See, I’ve got it all figured out.”
I’m positively gobsmacked. Mercedes has completely lost her mind. I couldn’t even do a ninety-second speech without freezing. How am I supposed to play a supporting lead? I’m not doing it. No way, no how, and I tell Mercedes exactly that. “You saw my Famous Californian speech. You know I can’t be trusted. I’ll ruin the whole performance. I’m not doing it and neither is Butter.”
“We’ll see,” Mercedes says, and buries her head in her homework, becoming uncharacteristically studious and silent.
Terror makes my heart thump wildly against my chest as visions of her wacky plan coming to fruition unfurl in my mind. Between my freezing and Butter’s fainting, the play will be utter mayhem and I’ll fail sixth grade for sure.
“Mercedes,” I hiss, trying to get her to look at me so we can agree her ridiculous idea is absurd and impossible.
Mercedes puts a finger to her lips and shushes me. “Ms. Day is speaking.”
I glare at her, appalled. That’s never stopped her from talking before. I cast glances at Addie and Theo, trying to enlist their help. Both quickly dip their heads down and stare at their notebooks, suddenly as conscientious as Mercedes.
My exasperated sigh is intentionally loud as I gather Butter in my arms and cuddle her, trying to calm my rising panic. The play can’t hinge on us. We’ll never survive the ordeal, and the play will be a complete disaster.
I have to make Mercedes see reason.
I sneak a peek at her. The determined scrunch creasing her forehead as she pretends to read her notes makes one thing crystal clear—changing her mind will be a battle.
The face-to-face battle I expect to have with Mercedes never comes. Instead, she sends in a stealth attack.
After school, Addie walks home with me and B
utter. Most afternoons, Addie has activities—dance, swimming, music, tutoring—if there’s a class offered, Addie takes it. Some days, she’s even double-booked, so I know this is a setup.
It’s not like I don’t feel guilty. I want to be the kind of kid who can perform a lead role with ease, and I know Mercedes has her heart set on having Butter in the play. She dreams of being a real director when she grows up and thinks that if her directorial debut features a live animal, it will make her college applications stand out. College applications. Mercedes’s determination and laser focus on the future give me heart palpitations. While she’s plotting a life course intent on world domination, I’m simply hoping to pass sixth grade.
Regardless, I’d love to help her achieve her goals, but I can’t. Even with Butter at my side, performing a supporting lead in the play is simply too much to hope for from me. Mercedes has to understand that.
When Addie and I get to the middle of the field, I unhook Butter’s leash. She pretty much follows me everywhere I go now, so I like to give her some freedom and let her run. As soon as I do it, Butter bounces away a few feet before turning around and coming back to me.
Addie watches Butter, amazed by her obedience. “My dogs don’t behave that well off-leash. To be honest, they don’t behave well on-leash either. They’re pretty much fur monsters.”
I laugh. “Fur monsters.”
Butter runs up to us and lowers her head like she’s going to butt us.
“Leave it,” I say, using a stern voice.
Butter stops for a second, and I think she’s going to listen. Then she rams her head into Addie’s leg.
“Hey! Talk about fur monsters.” Addie laughs and rubs her shin.
I put Butter’s leash back on. “Did she hurt you?”
“No, she’s too small.” Addie reaches over and pets Butter. “You little devil.”
“She can’t do that during her obedience test,” I say, stressed about how much depends on Butter passing that test. If she doesn’t, Principal Huxx won’t allow her to come to school with me anymore. School is so much better with Butter that I can’t imagine going back to what it was like before.
“It’s not until next week, right?”
I nod.
“You’ll get her sorted out.” It occurs to me that Addie is an optimist, always looking on the bright side. I really like that about her.
We stop to let Butter nibble on the grass.
“About the play,” Addie says, bringing up the subject I knew was coming.
“Addie, you saw what happened to me when I did my Famous Californian presentation. I was a disaster. I had stage fright so badly, I literally froze in front of everyone. Jamie’s right. I am Frosty.”
“True.” Addie pokes me in the side with her elbow and smiles. “The good news is you can’t get any worse.”
“Addie …”
“I’m only joking. But Butter will need you onstage. If you play Peter, you’ll be with her in all the scenes.”
I make Butter start walking again. If she had her way, we’d stand there all day while she munched on grass. “But who says I’m letting Butter do it?”
“The whole class voted for her. You have to let her be in it. Plus, Mercedes is counting on Butter to draw big crowds and make our play the best one the school has ever produced.”
I groan. The idea of big crowds only makes me more nervous.
I don’t say anything else for the rest of the walk. When we get to my house, I linger at the garden gate feeling torn. I really don’t want to disappoint my new friends, but they don’t understand what they’re asking of me. “I’m really sorry. I know Mercedes has her heart set on it, but we can’t do it.”
Dad comes from behind the gardening shed carrying a huge bag of mulch and asks, “Can’t do what?”
I give Addie a don’t share what we were talking about look. She either can’t read social cues or is choosing to ignore me because she says, “For Butter to be in the school play.”
I wonder if I know Addie well enough yet to stomp on her foot.
Dad sets down his bag of mulch. “They’ve asked Butter to be in the play? How did that come about?”
Addie jumps in to answer before I have a chance to respond. “We took a vote on the play we’re going to perform, and we all picked Heidi because of Butter. It was unanimous.”
It totally wasn’t. Two people voted for High School Musical (Kiera and Kylie) and one person voted for Hamilton (me). I mean, it’s an awesome musical, and there are a lot of crowd scenes where I could be onstage but hide behind everyone else. And I know Jamie didn’t vote for Heidi.
Dad moseys up to the fence like he’s settling in for a long chat. “Wow! The kids must really enjoy having Butter at school. Ms. Day was on board with that?”
“All for it,” Addie says. It’s like Dad and Addie are besties. “But Marvel’s not sure.”
“Why not?” Has he completely forgotten about my stage fright?
“The incident,” I say. “And it might be stressful for Butter.”
Dad puts on his solemn navy face and glances at Butter. “That goat’s a trouper. She’s proven she can adapt. I wouldn’t worry about her. As for you, I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”
Does no one get it? My mind is always the problem, not the solution.
“That’s what I told her! Mercedes, our director, has a foolproof plan to make sure Butter is completely comfortable. Besides, we know we’ll draw a huge crowd and sell lots of tickets if Butter is in the play. Most of the money goes to charity too, so it’s for a good cause.” Addie should be a salesperson when she grows up.
“I’m happy to help with the set if you need volunteers,” Dad says, surprising me. He doesn’t have a ton of time for his leave, and I have no idea why he would want to spend a chunk of it building scenery for a middle school production.
“We definitely need someone to help with that. Another reason for you to do it, Marvel.” I can tell Addie feels very proud of herself by her smug smile.
“When does practice start?” Dad asks.
“In a few days. Mercedes is still casting the other parts.”
“I’ll let you two finish your negotiation. But if you want my two cents, I think you should do it.” Dad hoists the bag of mulch over his shoulder again and heads toward the front of the house.
When he’s out of sight, I ask, “Why do you think he offered to build the set?”
“Probably because he wants to spend time with you. That’s why my mom volunteers so much,” Addie says.
Hmm. That never occurred to me.
“Did I convince you?” Addie crosses her fingers and bounces on her toes like a little kid begging for a new toy.
I’m 100 percent positive I’m still a hard no. I can’t play Peter. I’m going to struggle enough with a small part, but I’m unsure about Butter after Dad’s comments. Butter might enjoy it. She loves being around the kids at school. The play would give her more time to interact with them, and I do have confidence in Mercedes’s abilities to create a welcoming environment for Butter. I’d also love to spend more time with Dad.
“What’s the charity?” I ask.
“We plan to donate to an animal organization in Butter’s honor,” Addie says, tugging at my heartstrings.
I look down at my toes, feeling horrible about disappointing everyone and wishing I was the kind of person who took risks.
“The whole class is counting on you. They voted for you and Butter,” Addie says.
“They voted for Butter.” I bite on my lip, thinking. Most likely, no one really cares about my participation, except for Principal Huxx, and I have that worked out. If I can train Butter to follow someone else’s commands, then they won’t need me.
Addie smiles. She thinks I’m going to crack.
She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. I’m a pro at manipulating technicalities. I have to be. Otherwise, I’d never survive my anxiety. “Have Mercedes cast Theo as Peter, and I’
ll train him to work with Butter.”
“But it’s your part.”
“I don’t want it. I’m supposed to get a small one. Something tiny.” I hold two of my fingers a millimeter apart and show them to Addie so she knows exactly what I mean by tiny. “Give the role to Theo. I’ll teach him to work with Butter. It’s a win-win for everyone. Trust me, no one wants the play to hinge on me.”
She sighs, “If it gets Butter onstage, I think Mercedes will agree.”
“Pinkie promise,” I say, and hold out my little pinkie.
“Pinkie promise.”
Addie and I latch fingers, and the deal is sealed. Relief washes over me, and the tension in my shoulders that I didn’t even realize I was holding eases.
When she leaves, I decide to work with Butter on the obedience skills Mr. J gave me.
I feel confident she knows her name, but I spend some time checking to make sure. I sit in her enclosure with her and call her name repeatedly at random intervals. Whenever I say it, she looks up and stares at me with her ice-blue eyes. She’s definitely got that down.
I decide to work on something harder, the command leave it. I’m not exactly sure how to teach it to her, but figure the best way to practice is to let her wander around the garden since there’s lots of stuff in it she shouldn’t touch. I’m not concerned about her getting into real trouble because I plan to stay nearby to keep her out of it.
I unclip Butter’s leash, walk a few feet away, and wait to see what she does.
She eyes me coyly, then starts to explore the garden. For the first fifteen minutes, she wanders around interested but respectful, checking out the plants like she’s on a horticultural tour. (These are very boring. Trust me. I’ve been on several with Mom.)
That’s why I don’t think much of it when she sniffs one of Mom’s roses and pushes a large, impressive bloom with her nose.
I get close to her and use a calm, authoritative voice as I say, “Leave it.”
Butter pauses and looks at me with her gentle eyes before chomping the head off the rose.
Better With Butter Page 13