“I took in the money,” Flora told Olivia. “We made eleven dollars.”
“It took us forever to divide it up, remember?” said Ruby. “Annika and I finally got the extra pennies because we had the hardest jobs.”
“You mean, because I’m such a nice, kind person,” said Flora.
Olivia wanted to say “I have lots of good ideas, too,” but she realized her good ideas mostly revolved around such things as insect behavior and migratory patterns and the windchill factor. Now that Olivia thought about it, even the project she was working on for the town birthday celebration seemed dull. Olivia was taking photos of local wildlife for the photography exhibit. Flora, on the other hand, had embarked on a history project that was turning up all sorts of interesting things about her ancestors in Camden Falls. Nikki would be able to show everyone what a talented artist she was. And Ruby — well, it was hard to top Ruby’s drama-filled role as Alice Kendall, possible witch.
“Olivia?” said Flora. “Are you okay? You’re so quiet today.”
“I’m okay.”
Through the window of Sincerely Yours, Olivia saw the familiar sights of Main Street. There were the trees, some old and grand, some new and spindly, “greening up,” as her mother would say. There were the spring’s first tourists (Olivia could always tell them from the people who actually lived in Camden Falls), brought out by the fine weather, strolling up and down the street with their shopping bags. There was Jackie, who worked in the post office, and Frank, who owned Frank’s Beans. And across the street was Time and Again, the used bookstore, where Olivia bought old books about wildlife, often for as little as fifty cents.
Olivia was trying to see what was in the window of Time and Again when the door to the bookstore opened and Sonny Sutphin wheeled out. He made his way to the corner of Boiceville Road, wheeled himself down the dip in the sidewalk, across to the other side of Main Street, and up another dip. Olivia lost sight of him then, but a few moments later he appeared at Sincerely Yours and steered inside.
“Hi, girls,” he said.
“’Morning, Sonny,” they replied.
Usually Sonny stopped to chat with them, but this morning he seemed to be in a hurry. “Olivia, are your parents here?” he asked.
“In the back,” said Olivia, and at that moment, they returned to the front, having given Dr. Malone, the dentist, a peek at the kitchen.
When Dr. Malone left, Sonny approached Olivia’s parents. “I don’t know if you’ll be hiring anyone to work here after you open, but if you’re in the market for help, I’m in the market for a job.” He handed Mr. Walter a paper from a stack in his lap and said, “These are my particulars. Please call me if you have an opening.”
“Goodness,” said Mrs. Walter when Sonny had left. “Two applicants in one morning!”
Olivia knew she should feel excited — about the store, the opening, Robby, Sonny, the fine spring weather — but Annika came into her mind and all she felt was sadness.
The gentle weather didn’t last as long as anybody would have liked, and Ruby was disappointed.
“It’s too early for weather that warm. It was bound to turn,” said Min sensibly.
“But March is supposed to go out like a lamb,” Ruby replied. It was a chilly Saturday morning, and she was not pleased.
“Well, it’s not snowing,” said Flora. Ruby mumbled something crabby and unintelligible, and Flora raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you have a play rehearsal all day today?” she asked her sister. “The run-through? I thought that would make you happy.”
“It does,” said Ruby. “It’s just that I wanted to walk to school wearing my new shirt.”
“So wear it under your jacket,” said Flora.
“That’s missing the point!” said Ruby.
“Heavens to Murgatroyd,” said Min. “What is wrong, Ruby?”
“Maybe I’m a little nervous,” Ruby admitted. “Today is our first run-through, but Mrs. Gillipetti called it a stumble-through.”
“Ah,” said Min, “I see. That implies mistakes.”
“And accidents and problems,” said Ruby. “A whole Saturday full of them.”
“I’ll walk you to school,” offered Flora. “How’s that?”
Ruby brightened. “Okay! Thank you.”
“Remember that when you come back this afternoon, Ruby, I’ll already be gone,” said Min.
Ruby nodded. Min and Mr. Pennington had plans to go to an art exhibit that afternoon. The exhibit was in Charity, thirty miles away, and they were going to have dinner there afterward.
“So Aunt Allie will be in charge this evening,” Min continued.
Ruby and Flora exchanged a glance, which they hoped their grandmother didn’t see. But nothing was said about their aunt until they had set out for Camden Falls Elementary.
“She’s probably going to make us eat okra and cabbage for dinner,” said Ruby. “And drink soy milk!”
“But after dinner,” said Flora, “she’ll fire up her computer and ignore us. Then we can do anything we want.”
Aunt Allie, the younger sister of Ruby and Flora’s mother, had come to visit for the holidays a few months ago. Ruby had looked forward to the visit with some excitement. Her aunt, she thought, must live a glamorous life. She was a writer and had an apartment in a high-rise building in thrilling Manhattan. She had even been to Broadway shows, and Broadway was where Ruby herself hoped to be one day. Not sitting in an audience but standing onstage in front of the audience, the more people the better.
Then Aunt Allie had arrived and Ruby’s bubble had burst. Her aunt was stiff, she had no sense of humor that Ruby could detect, and her idea of a great present was a check for someone’s savings account. Worse, when the holidays were over, Allie didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave Camden Falls and eventually said that she had had enough of New York and wanted to continue her writing career here, where she had grown up. She was house-hunting but hadn’t seen anything she liked. The third-floor guest room she occupied was filling with more and more of Allie’s things as she made trips to New York, then returned with items from her apartment.
A horrifying thought now struck Ruby, and she said, “Flora, you don’t suppose Allie will decide to stay with us, do you?”
Flora looked shocked. “In our house? I don’t think so.”
“But it’s taking her such a long time to find a place of her own. She’s so picky. And as long as she stays with us, she doesn’t have to cook. Min does all the cooking.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t like what we eat. You know that. We’re not organic.”
Ruby frowned. “What’s wrong with Twinkies, I wonder. Aunt Allie is such a boring adult.”
The girls had reached their school by then, and Flora said, “Do you want me to come in with you, Ruby?”
“No, thanks. I feel better. Look, there’s Mrs. Gillipetti, waiting for everybody. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Ruby and the other cast members, young and old (the youngest ones were kindergartners with their parents, the oldest were sixth-graders), followed Mrs. Gillipetti inside Camden Falls Elementary and through the halls to the auditorium. Ruby knew she was lucky to go to a school with its very own auditorium. Her last school, in her old town, was bigger than CFE but did not have a separate cafeteria and auditorium — just one big room that did double duty. When it was being used as an auditorium, it was hard to ignore the folded-up tables and chairs lining the walls. Also, there had been no stage. Ruby was grateful to have a stage.
“People,” said Mrs. Gillipetti as she opened the doors to the auditorium, “please put your coats and things down over there and then take seats in the front. I want to explain what we’re going to do today.”
In our stumble-through, thought Ruby. She felt her heartbeat quicken.
When the children were seated, Mrs. Gillipetti stood before them and said, “All right. Up until now we’ve mostly been rehearsing in smaller groups, and we haven’t had any run-throughs.”
This
was true, thought Ruby. The last time the cast had performed the entire play had been just before the holidays, when they’d held a special assembly for their school. Things had not gone well — although Mrs. Gillipetti had retained her sense of humor.
“So now,” continued Mrs. Gillipetti, “the hard work begins.” She smiled. “But this will be fun, too. You’ll get to see all the pieces fall into place. Eventually, we’ll be rehearsing in our costumes with the scenery. In fact, we’ll start rehearsing with some of the scenery today.”
Ruby raised her hand. “Is it finished?” she asked.
“Not all of it. Some of the backdrops are still being painted. But we have Alice Kendall’s house as well as John Parson’s, and some of the trees have been completed as well. I should add that the group in charge of scenery is going to be working onstage with us today, painting the town backdrop, so you’ll have to step carefully. Okay, everybody?
“Now,” Mrs. Gillipetti went on, “what I’d like to do is start at the beginning of the play — the first scene — and try to work through to the very end. I’m going to stop you along the way, probably lots and lots of times. You’ll need to make sure you’re standing in the right places — that’s called blocking — and working with the scenery and the props correctly. Also, think about the costumes you’ll be wearing. And — this is important — try to say your lines without referring to your scripts. I know this is a lot to remember, but we’ll be having plenty of rehearsals between now and May. Okay, everybody who’s in the first scene, please follow me onto the stage.”
Ruby stood up. As the lead character, she was in nearly every scene in the play.
The run-through began. Ruby had not even finished her first line (which, proudly, she had memorized, along with the rest of the scene) when Mrs. Gillipetti interrupted her to say, “Now, Ruby, you’ll be standing over here.” Ruby moved a few inches to her right. “No, here.” Mrs. Gillipetti pointed to a red X that had been taped to the floor of the stage. “You’ll all have to watch for your spike marks,” Mrs. Gillipetti said, addressing the cast, “so you’ll know exactly where to stand.”
Ruby started over again with her first line, standing carefully on the X. “Can you say that more wistfully?” Mrs. Gillipetti said. “You have a lot of enthusiasm, and that’s good, but this line needs to sound wistful.”
Ruby frowned. Wistful? Full of wist? “Wistful” was not on the long list of emotions Ruby felt she had mastered.
“Look as though you long for something,” said Mrs. Gillipetti helpfully, and Ruby started over yet again.
Half an hour later, the first scene finally ended. Mrs. Gillipetti had stopped it more times than Ruby could count to point out spike marks, to remind the cast members about props they’d be using, and to encourage memorization of lines. Ruby’s stomach was beginning to feel queasy, but when the scene finally ended, Mrs. Gillipetti said, “Bravo!”
Ruby couldn’t help herself. “Bravo?” she repeated.
Mrs. Gillipetti smiled. “Now you know what real actors feel like. Good work, people.”
Real actors? It was Ruby’s turn to smile.
The second scene began. Ruby didn’t have quite as much work to do in Scene Two. But in Scene Three she was supposed to cry. Mrs. Gillipetti had told her from the beginning that if she couldn’t cry real tears, she could simply cover her eyes with her hands and make sobbing noises. This was not good enough for Ruby. For months she had been working hard at bringing forth tears the first time Alice Kendall is accused of being a witch. Now, when the accusation was made (by Harry Lang, a fifth-grade boy who glared fiercely but not very convincingly at Ruby), she screwed up her face, swallowed hard, bit her lip, and managed to make tears (real tears) spring to her eyes. Harry was so surprised that he was late with his next line, and Mrs. Gillipetti once again said “Bravo!” when the scene was finished. Then she added, “Excellent, Ruby.”
The praise was enough to change Ruby’s opinion of a stumble-through, and she worked hard the rest of the day, paying careful attention to Mrs. Gillipetti’s directions and feeling very professional indeed.
When the long day was over, Ruby left CFE tired but pleased. And she smiled when she turned the corner onto Aiken Avenue and saw the Row Houses. She passed the Morrises’, Mr. Willet’s, the Malones’, then turned up her own walk.
“Hello, everybody!” she called as she flung open the front door.
“Hi!” Flora’s voice floated downstairs from her bedroom, followed by Olivia’s: “Hi, Ruby!”
Ruby took off her jacket and dropped it in the hallway, thought better of this, and hung it in the coat closet.
Aunt Allie appeared in the doorway to the living room. “Ah, there you are, Ruby. How’s The Witches of Camden Falls coming along?”
“Good,” replied Ruby, remembering the fine moment in which she had stunned the cast with her real tears. “I’m tired, though.” She followed her aunt back into the living room and flopped onto the couch.
“Have you done your weekend homework?” asked Aunt Allie.
Ruby closed her eyes. “No.” When she heard nothing from her aunt she opened them again. “What?” she asked.
“You’d better get started.”
“Now? I just got home. Besides, I can do it all tomorrow. I don’t have that much.”
Aunt Allie raised an eyebrow. “Ruby. I believe Min said you have a science test to study for.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. But I can do that tomorrow.”
“We’re going to be busy in the afternoon, remember? That doesn’t leave you much time.”
“I’ll have all morning! That’s enough.”
Aunt Allie leveled her gaze on Ruby. “Your schoolwork,” she said, “leaves a lot to be desired.”
Ruby knew this was true, but she said, “I’m tired. The rehearsal was really hard.”
“I think,” said Aunt Allie, “that you have your priorities reversed. For heaven’s sake, Ruby, Witches is just a school play. But your studies are the pathway to the future.”
Well.
Ruby could not believe her ears. Just a school play? Did Aunt Allie know nothing? This was perhaps the most important thing Ruby had ever done. She was starring in the play. Starring in it. As in, playing the most important role. Not only was she learning things such as blocking and how to work with props and scenery (Ruby had been in plays before but never in a production as involved and complicated as this one), but she had to memorize pages and pages of material. And cry! She had to cry! She’d been able to make tears run down her cheeks.
Ruby sat up and glared at her aunt. Wait until opening night, she thought. Ruby would show Aunt Allie that what she had worked so hard on all year long was far from just a school play.
Aunt Allie smiled at Ruby as her niece left the living room. “I’ll be glad to quiz you on your science chapters,” she said.
“Okay,” Ruby replied, and she clumped up the stairs. “I’m going to study now.” Aunt Allie didn’t need to know that she was going to study her lines and not Chapter Eleven in Our Wide World of Nature.
If on a fine spring day you were to decide to visit Camden Falls, Massachusetts, you would find a small town with lots of nice shops on Main Street. You could pop into Cover to Cover and buy a book. You could order something to drink (hot or cold) at Frank’s Beans. You could backtrack a bit and go to the T-shirt Emporium for an I’VE BEEN TO CAMDEN FALLS shirt. (Nobody who lives in Camden Falls ever wears these shirts, but the tourists like them.) Cross the street and buy an ice-cream cone at Dutch Haus. Check out the local hiking guides in Doubletree Sporting Goods, then admire the window of Needle and Thread, recently decorated with vibrant felt flowers by Flora and Ruby Northrop and Olivia Walter. Continue south on Main Street and you’ll pass a store currently being renovated with a sign above the door reading SINCERELY YOURS. A notice taped to the window informs you that the store will open in May and will sell not only candy and baked goods but everything you might need to create a gift basket for any occasio
n — a birthday, a baby shower, a holiday, a graduation, a retirement. Take out your notebook and write down the phone number and Web address at the bottom of the notice because starting in June, you’ll be able to order these gift baskets by phone or over the Internet.
Now, if you head back to the parking lot behind the shops on the east side of the street, you can load your purchases into your car and take a drive in the country. Camden Falls is situated at the foot of some hills (you really can’t call them mountains), with flatter country spreading out in other directions. Nikki Sherman and her family live off to the west of town, and to the northwest is the new home of Mrs. Willet. Mary Lou Willet, whose husband, Bill, occupies the second Row House from the left on Aiken Avenue, has been living at Three Oaks for several months now. Three Oaks, Mr. Willet told Min, is what is known as a continuing-care retirement community with apartments for independent living as well as rooms for people who are ill or who can no longer take care of themselves. There’s a wing for people with Alzheimer’s disease, and this is where Mrs. Willet lives. If you were to peek through her window at Three Oaks on this early spring day, you would find a pleasant room furnished with things from the Willets’ house. Sitting on the bed is a teddy bear that Robby Edwards made for Mrs. Willet last fall. She calls the bear Sweetie, which is the name of the Willets’ cat, and even though she doesn’t know where it came from, she likes it very much, as Robby knew she would. Mrs. Willet herself is not in the room right now. She’s down the hall in the Activities Center, making a collage under the direction of Dee, whom Mrs. Willet also likes very much. Her days at Three Oaks are busy. She is especially happy whenever that man who might be her husband arrives for a visit.
Now leave Three Oaks and drive east toward town but turn left onto Aiken Avenue before you reach Main Street. Park your car and study the Row Houses for a moment. There’s no other structure like this in Camden Falls. The Row Houses were built in 1882, which was more than fifty years before Min was born, and they consist of eight nearly identical adjoining homes, a solid granite structure almost a block long. The first people to live in these homes were wealthy, and the small rooms on the third floor of each house were occupied by maids. Butlers answered the door, and gardeners tended the yards. Today the houses are still occupied by eight families, but these people tend their own gardens and answer their own doors. The third-floor rooms have become offices and playrooms and nurseries.
Main Street #4: Best Friends Page 3