by Wendy Mass
“I did it!” she says, unable to keep her voice down. “I asked Mom if it was okay and she really didn’t want me to and I asked her, ‘Why, just tell me why?’ and she said it’s because she doesn’t want me to get hurt like Grandma did, to feel that all my self-worth was tied up in an acting career, and I was like, ‘Mom, I want to be a mathematician, not an actress,’ and she still wasn’t sure, so I showed her the Jake video and she was like, ‘Okay, you should totally do this!’ So now we’re going to go to the beach after the play instead!”
“That’s great, I —”
But Emily has noticed Rory on the other side of me and has lunged out of her seat to tackle her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Rory peels Emily off of her and laughs. “It’s okay. Jake really wants to do it. But I think Ray is going to fire you if you don’t sit down and pay attention.”
“Are we ready to focus, Miss St. Claire?” Ray asks, peering down at her.
She slinks back to her seat.
Ray walks back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, eying everyone like he’s a drill sergeant inspecting the troops. I’m not sure what a real director would look like, but Ray looks like someone who wandered in from an afternoon hike. He even has a water bottle strapped to his waist. Finally he says, “Okay, folks. I run a tight ship. There will be no mollycoddling of anyone in …” He looks at me and asks, “What play is this again? Grease? The Wizard of Oz?”
At the mention of The Wizard of Oz, Amanda visibly shudders. I’m not a fan of the flying monkeys either.
“It’s Fiddler on the Roof,” I reply in a loud whisper.
“That’s right, Fiddler on the Roof! That classic tale of tradition, love, and family. At least I think it is. I’ve only seen the movie and you know how they change things. Anyway, as I was saying — cast, crew, you’re all the same in my book. And judging by the number of people in this room, you actually are the same. Okay. Now let’s go around the room. Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here. Keep it short. My brain’s already crowded.”
Leo pops up. “I’m Leo. I’ll be playing the part of Perchik, a student in love with Tevye’s daughter Hodel.” He picks up his folders and begins distributing them. “I’ve made each member of the cast a folder that will include the lyrics to the songs that you will be performing. Each member of the crew also gets a folder with your assignments. I did my best to figure out the costumes and sets, and as many of you know, we have a lot of the props already. Since we have only a little more than two weeks to get this show ready, it’ll be pretty bare-bones. We had to cut out a few of the less essential songs, and we only have seventy-five dollars to spend on incidentals. So look over the lists in your folders and see what you have from home or can borrow.”
He continues handing out the folders and I glance over at Amanda. Her face is glowing with pride. She leans over to me and whispers, “And to think my mom said Leo always has his head in the clouds.” She gets up next and offers to write the cast and crew list on the dry-erase board in the front of the room.
Director: Ray
Producer: Tara
Tevye, the milkman: David
Tzeitel, his oldest daughter: Emily
Hodel, his second-oldest: Stephanie
Chava, his third-oldest: Rory
Golde, his wife: Amanda
Motel, a tailor, in love with Tzeitel: Jake
Perchik, a student, in love with Hodel: Leo
Yente, the matchmaker: Annabelle
Lazar Wolf, the butcher: Connor
Fyedka, a Christian, in love with Chava: Vinnie
Shprintze and Bielke, Tevye’s youngest daughters: Grace and Bailey
Fiddler: Bucky Whitehead
Choreography: Mrs. Grayson
Set design and props: Big Joe
Costumes: Annabelle
Makeup: Bettie
Hair: Sari
There are only three people on the whole list who I don’t know — Vinnie (who came in a baseball uniform) is a friend of Leo’s. His ears turned pink when he saw Annabelle so I’m sure there’s a story there somewhere. Then Connor’s sister, Grace, brought her friend Bailey, and Rory brought her friend Sari to do everyone’s hair. Considering Sari’s own hair is a collage of colors, she and Bettie will no doubt get along swimmingly. Seeing the list in big letters makes it feel so real. This is seriously going to happen. Maybe my immortal soul won’t bounce from cloud to cloud after all!
Sari asks loudly where Jake is, and Rory explains to everyone that he isn’t going to be here until the day before the play, but that he knows his song already. After a few murmurs of disappointment that they won’t be seeing him today, the cast huddles in one corner with their song sheets, while the crew meets with Ray to talk about what supplies they’ll need. Seeing my name up there as producer feels very strange. The first hurdle is done, though — we have the cast, crew, props, and a stage. As the producer, it’s my job to find an audience while everyone else works on putting the actual play together. If Angelina hadn’t said I needed to sell tickets, I would have been fine simply having everyone bring their families.
I wander through the room listening to different conversations. Since choreographing the dances is the hardest part of all, Mrs. Grayson has roped Big Joe into helping her. She has him standing in the center of the room while she flits around him, humming the words to “Matchmaker, Matchmaker” and taking down notes on how the dance should go. Fortunately a lot of the notes on the original script we got from the library were actually hers, so she only has to redo it with the new cast.
I wait until Ray finishes assuring Grace and Bailey that, as the younger sisters in the play, their role as background dancers is very important. Then he tells them to go see Bettie and Sari about their hair and makeup, and that perks them right up.
“Nice work,” I say.
“I was born to direct,” he says, thumping his chest. “It’s all about people skills.”
“Since we know mine are lacking, do you need me here?”
He shakes his head. “Go produce. Or whatever it is producers do. I got it covered.”
I reach into my sock and hand him the seventy-five dollars I volunteered to contribute.
He tucks it in his pocket. “I will use it wisely,” he promises. As I turn to go, he stops me and says, “It’s gonna be a ripper play. You’ll see. People will talk about it for years.”
As I leave the room, I hear Annabelle tell Ray that in order to fully embody her role as the matchmaker in the play, she has the perfect woman to set him up with. That’s the spirit.
Instead of biking straight home to work on the flyers for the play, I take a detour over to Angelina’s shop. I want to update her on the progress of the play and ask if I really need to sell tickets. As usual, the store looks dark from the outside. But this time when I turn the knob, it doesn’t open. I look up to see a sign posted on the door. GONE FISHING.
Somehow I can’t picture Angelina standing by the banks of a river casting a fishing line.
I decide on the bike ride home that selling tickets at the door, instead of ahead of time, will be fine. I use the computer in the kitchen to make up some really simple flyers announcing the time and place, and put down that tickets are all six dollars. I figure if it turns out really bad, people won’t have lost too much money. The flyers don’t say anything about Jake, which is how Rory said he wanted it.
Aunt Bethany comes home as I’m printing out the flyers and says, “We can do better than that.” In ten minutes, she designs some really professional-looking flyers. I hadn’t really stopped to think about where she went each day, but it turns out she volunteers at different organizations around town, helping them with fundraising projects. She sends a copy of the flyer to all her e-mail contacts, posts it on the Willow Falls website, and then drives me into town to do it the old-fashioned way — with tape. We put the flyers in the window of the diner, the music store, the dress shop, the toy store, the library, and nearly every store in
between. Each time another flyer goes up, this whole thing gets more real. If I think too much about it, I’m afraid my head will explode.
During the first week, everything moves along steadily. The cast practices their songs, Big Joe works on the sets, and Annabelle has gathered together (or made) almost all the costumes we’ll need. Emily’s very good in rehearsals, having quickly gotten over her shyness. Leo is a very confident performer, too. The others … well, at least they seem to be having fun.
I like watching David stomping around the stage belting out “Tradition! Tradition!” in his black bar mitzvah pants, white shirt, and black vest that is doubling for his character’s costume. It’s one of his two solos, and then he has two more songs, one with Amanda and one with Connor. I haven’t seen the one with Amanda yet, but he and Connor spend most of their routine trying to land on each other’s feet. David’s still the best singer in the play, but it’s nothing compared to when he sneaks over to the pool hole in the evenings. I’ve been sitting by the back door where he can’t see me so I can listen. I’m going to miss hearing the Hebrew songs when his bar mitzvah is over next week. Even though I’m keeping my eyes open for the perfect present for him, I haven’t found it yet. Considering that the need for a gift was the thing that started all this, I really better find something great. And soon.
With only a week to go before the performance, the producers of Playing It Cool decide to announce that not only will they be holding the premier at the Willow Falls Movie Theatre the evening of Saturday, July fourteenth, but that Jake Harrison will be playing the role of Motel in the Willow Falls Community Playhouse production of Fiddler on the Roof the day before. Suddenly the movie and the play are all anyone in town can talk about, and some of the cast are freaking out. Apparently, it’s also awkward for Stephanie and Leo to be singing together because Amanda doesn’t see Stephanie as much as she used to now that Leo is back in her life. Ah, middle school drama. Exactly the kinda stuff I avoided back home. Here, though, it doesn’t seem so much like drama. More like, well, like life.
With only three days to go, my parents call again. This time I’m able to talk to my mother without feeling a lump in my throat as big as Texas. This one is only Rhode Island-sized. I tell them I’m involved in the play in case Aunt Bethany mentions it, but I don’t tell them how it’s only happening because of me. I can tell they’re shocked enough that I have any part in it.
The next night, the doorbell rings around seven o’clock. Aunt Bethany and Ray are out picking up refreshments for the play while Emily and I are upstairs in our room practicing. Well, she’s practicing. I’m working on posters for the ticket table. Rory’s voice calls out, “Hello? Anyone home?”
“Come on up,” I hear Uncle Roger call out from his lab. “The girls are in their room.”
A minute later Rory appears in our doorway. But she’s not alone. I jump up so quickly that all of my art supplies go flying onto the floor.
Jake Harrison = STANDING SIX FEET AWAY FROM ME.
“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” I say, then immediately want to bite my tongue. I’m actually meeting Jake Harrison, THE Jake Harrison, who is just as cute in person, and those are the first words out of my mouth?
Emily, who had been practicing twirling in one spot, doesn’t move for a few seconds. Then she yells, “Hey, what’s that?” and points to a typical pile of random stuff in the opposite corner of the room. They both follow her gaze. She then leaps over to my bed and grabs at the corner of the Jake poster hanging on the wall above it. As soon as I realize what she’s doing, I grab the other end. We manage to wrestle it off the wall and into a ball on the floor before they turn back around.
“What are we supposed to see?” Rory asks.
“Um, nothing,” Emily says. “I’ve just always wanted to say that.”
If Jake knew what just happened, he didn’t show it. “So you’re my fiancée?” he asks Emily with a big smile.
I think she may actually be rendered speechless for the first time ever. Finally she says something that resembles the word yes.
“And this is Tara,” Rory says. “She’s the reason we’re all doing the play.”
“Hi,” I manage to say, amazed that both Emily and I have managed not to squeal yet. “Thank you so much for offering to be in it.”
“It’ll be fun,” he says. “I’ve wanted to branch out from the whole teen movie genre for a while now. This could be my big break!” He smiles again and we all laugh. Like anything he does in our little town could actually be anything other than a blip in his career.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” Rory says, “but Jake came a day early and we thought we’d get some more practice time in.”
No doubt beckoned by the sound of a male voice, Uncle Roger appears in the doorway. Rory introduces them, and Uncle Roger grips Jake’s hand a little longer than necessary. “You’re fifteen now, right?” he asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Rory’s only thirteen, you know. She’s like a second daughter to us. We take her well-being very seriously.”
Rory shuffles over to where I’m standing and hides her face with her hands.
“Don’t worry,” Jake assures him. “Rory’s father already made me sign something saying we won’t officially date until she’s in ninth grade. Seriously. He had it notarized and everything.”
Emily finally squeals. I reach out and squeeze Rory’s hand. She squeezes back.
Jake turns around to Rory and smiles. “Unless she’s forgotten all about me by that time.”
For the next two hours, Rory and I watch Emily and Jake twirl around the living room. Uncle Roger moved all the furniture out of the way so there’s plenty of room. Emily is a really good teacher and Jake picks up the dance steps very quickly. He has to use the sheet music for the lyrics, though, because it’s a really long song. “Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles,” he sings over and over, but who could get tired of that voice?
Emily doesn’t have any lines in this one, she just twirls with him and basks in his adoration as he sings about how it’s such a miracle that they’re allowed to be together. The best part is when Jake has to do a backward somersault and then keeps getting stuck halfway over.
Uncle Roger mutters, “It’ll be a miracle of miracles if that kid doesn’t break his neck.”
Ray and Aunt Bethany return and Emily says, “This is my husband, Jake Harrison.” Everyone laughs. Then Jake stands off to the side while Rory and Emily practice the song they have together: “Matchmaker, Matchmaker.” Emily really belts it out, but Rory does this half-talking, half-singing thing, clearly uncomfortable. Throughout the routine, Aunt Bethany keeps wiping under her eyes with her finger. Her makeup is a mess but no one mentions it. I wonder if she’s thinking of her mother, too, and how she used to sing the same song.
Jake gives them a standing ovation. “Bravo, bravo!”
Emily curtsies and blushes.
“I think I’ll stick to being an extra,” Rory says.
“Who knows,” Jake says, twirling her around. “Maybe once the world sees your debut in Playing It Cool, they’ll demand more of Rory Swenson.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll demand less,” she replies.
Uncle Roger points out that it’s getting late, so Jake and Emily plan to meet up the next day at the community center to keep rehearsing. As they leave, I get a text from David asking me to meet him in the backyard.
I go out through the laundry room and find him sitting at the patio table. The outside lights allow me to see the box wrapped in newspaper on the table in front of him. “Looks like you had company,” he says.
I feel a little weird telling him who it was, but he probably knows. I nod. “Rory brought Jake by to practice with Emily.”
“What was he like?”
“He was really nice,” I admit. “Not at all movie-starry.” I leave out the cute and charming and funny and a good singer and dancer part. He really doesn’t need to know that.
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br /> “Cool,” he says.
“How’d it go with the rabbi?” I ask, eager to change the topic.
“It was good. We went over the speech I have to give after the service.”
“You have to make a speech on top of all the other stuff?”
He nods. “It doesn’t have to be long. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m going to say.”
“Cool,” I say. We sit there in silence for a minute until I say, “Sooo … what’s in the box?”
“This little thing?” he jokes. “I just found it here.”
“Really?”
“No. I brought it for you.”
“Oh! What is it?”
He pushes it toward me. “Friday’s going to be so crazy with the play and then I have to go do bar mitzvah stuff at night. I might not get to see you much on your birthday.”
“You got me a gift?” I don’t think I’ve gotten a birthday gift from anyone other than a relative in years.
“It’s a small thing. But I just thought, when you go back home at the end of the summer, you could take this with you.”
I feel a pang of something like the homesickness I felt when I first got here, only the reverse. I focus on unwrapping the newspaper and on ignoring the clenching feeling in my stomach. I put it aside and find that I’m holding a CD case. I hold it up to the light and read SOUNDS FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE POOL.
“Your uncle lent me some seriously old tape recorder and then I transferred the recording onto my computer.”