Shera- Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“Does Brad Fergusson like you or something?” Chrissie said in a low, almost wicked tone to me over a mocha frappe. We jetted off-campus for lunch at our favorite local coffee and sandwich shop. It was just off the center street of Whitefish that looked right off the set of an old John Wayne movie. We walked through the café’s beaded doorway and unexpectedly found Brad, Richard and Dave sitting on cushions like Gods of Gorgeousness around a low table in the corner.

I’d hoped Chrissie wouldn’t notice Brad staring at me, but his odd yellow-green eyes under his jetting orange hair had hardly left my face. What made things worse is that over the past few days, I’d come to realize that Brad was pretty much the only human I felt like licking. Him and sometimes Richard, and a dark-haired guy in leather chaps I hadn’t noticed lurking in the back of my Chemistry class before, but there was something about the way Brad’s orange hair stuck out like dry grass that made my tongue itch to smooth it down.

“No,” I nearly choke on my steaming latte. “He’s just weird that’s all.”

“Tell me about it,” Chrissie rolled her tongue piercing around in her mouth. “Yesterday in Chemistry I saw him licking a vile of hydrogen.”

My ears perked up. “Licking?” I asked, setting down the mug carefully so it wouldn’t spill all over my new death metal blouse. “Did you say licking?”

“Yeah,” she leaned in across the table. “Some say he’s into some pretty weird stuff, but licking a vile of hydrogen? Come on.”

“That is weird,” I muttered, but my mind was going fast. Maybe it’s some kind of disease: this propensity to lick things. Maybe it’s communicable, I did kiss Greg Browning on prom night, and he seemed to want to do a lot of licking, or maybe it’s airborne. Should I ask him about it? Should I tell Chrissie?

“You ready for the auditions tomorrow?” her question severed my line of thought. Tomorrow? They were already tomorrow?

“Absolutely,” I gave a pretense of supreme confidence but the truth was that I’d been pretty distracted lately. “You?”

“Sure, but I can’t decide to go for Lesiel or the hot Frau chick,” she went on and though I knew she still wanted the part of Maria, I was debating if licking a vile in Chemistry class was a coincidence or just another symptom of a deranged mind. It’s probably nothing, I determined as I liked the whip cream off the tip of my spoon. I’m the one with the real problem, and I shouldn’t say anything about to anyone either especially any of them. My eyes shot over to the corner table where they immediately met Brad’s electric green ones.

I wanted to look away, but I noticed a thin line of white cream just above his upper lip. Out flashed his pink tongue and in less than a second it was gone. My spoon fell from my mouth and clanged onto the table. Brad just cocked an orange eyebrow and gave a mischievous smirk.

“Ugh,” Chrissie whined next to me. “You splattered cream all over my shirt.” She dabbed at it with a napkin, but I stood up and grabbed her arm.

“Come on,” I urged. “Let’s go.”

“Why?” Her brown eyes told me she thought I was crazy, which I probably was, but this was just too much for me.

“I just need to get out of here now.” I couldn’t possibly tell her the real reason.

“Ok, but can I get my drink,” she shrugged my hand off.

“Fine,” I grumbled, feeling both Brad and Richard’s eyes on me now. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Forget Brad. Forget licking. Forget every strange thing that’s happened this week, I told myself as I scrambled out of the school and to the dirt lot where my old beat up Jeep was parked. I have an audition tomorrow to prepare for and need to stay focused. Focus, Valerie.

I fished through my purse for my keys when a voice on the other side of my car said, “Valerie,” and made me drop the whole bag. Ruby lipstick, black eyeliner, and pieces of watermelon gum splattered across the red dirt.

“Great,” I muttered at my own jitteriness.

“Let me help you with that,” they said and a freckled hand picked up a piece of gum and offered to return it to me. “Watermelon. That’s my favorite.” I looked up to see the grinning face of Brad.

“Keep it,” I told him, angry that he scared me.

He gave a light laugh that made his thin shoulders rise. “I think you need it more than I do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowled. “You think I’ve got bad breath or something?”

Again, he just tossed me that off-smile. A very weird moment passed. Are you going to say something? I wondered and was just about to step around him and get in my car when he said, “Simon wants to meet you. I think he’ll have some answers for you. Be at Riverside Park tomorrow night at 8 p.m. Don’t be late.”

With that, he turned his orange head around and started to walk away.

“Who’s Simon?” I asked, stunned that he was going to leave after saying something like that, but still he just skipped on further down the lot. I could see Richard’s bulky form leaning up against a pickup at the end of the row. “What are you talking about?”
He gave a little hop and called back over his shoulder. “Riverside Park. 8 o’clock. Don’t be late.”

I couldn’t believe it. Was this guy completely nuts? I turned around to see if anyone else had witnessed this but the lot was empty. I called after him, “You think I’m going to meet you and your creep friends at some park tomorrow night, you’re wrong.” But Brad had already met up with Richard and they were getting into the truck.

What a wacko! Why is it in a town of only 5,000 I’ve got to be the one to attract all the loonies? I slammed the rest of the lipstick and gum back into my purse and resolved that the last thing I would ever do tomorrow was go to Riverside Park.

That night, I ran over the lyrics of every song over and over again in my head until I was sure I sang them even in my sleep. I was a senior now; this was my last shot at something greater than chucking horse manure, or stocking Red Dirt Shirts on the shop shelves. The school musical was just one step for me into a big, bright exciting future that consisted of: L.A. movie sets, and picking the right gowns to wear for all the premiers.

But the next day, I woke up with a massive twisted knot in my stomach greater than the state of Montana. Was it just nerves about the audition? As I slurped down my Fruit Loops, I kept thinking back on what Brad told me as he stood nonchalantly by my Jeep with his quirky grin like he knew something about me I didn’t even know. “Simon wants to meet you. I think he’ll have some answers for you.” Who the heck is Simon and why would he have answers for me? What kind of answers could he have anyway? But the truth was that I did have questions that needed answering. Knowing the truth was so appealing. But shouldn’t I be focusing on the auditions?

Sick of the indecision, I decided I could go to the auditions which were after school at five and then maybe swing by the park just to see if anyone would actually be there. It was probably the stupidest thing I could do, but the part of me that was so desperate for answers drove logic away.

I tapped my legs nervously all through English, American History, Algebra and Spanish, consciously avoiding Brad, but he wasn’t at school at all. Neither was Richard. Dave Lonsley was there, shouting out Captain VonTrapp lines every once in a while to a gathered hallway crowd. My heart fluttered just a bit at the thought that we’d be playing leads together.

“You look sick,” Chrissie told me as we took our seats in the middle of the auditorium as the minutes to show time ticked down. “You sure you’re still up for auditioning?”

“I’ll be fine,” I told her, but I wasn’t sure I was, or if I was more nervous about singing or going to the park. “Have you ever heard of a guy named Simon?” More and more hopeful thespians poured in through the doors. There was a twinge of nervous energy in the air. My hands were shaking slightly in my lap, but I hid them under my hoodie so Chrissie wouldn’t see.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t think so, why?” I didn’t answer her but pretended to be interested in fixing my broken zipper. “You ok, Val? You’ve been acting almost as dumb-headed as the cheer squad.”

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes and squished the bread between my fingers.

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to go for this whole musical thing, you know.” Yeah wouldn’t that be convenient for you? I wanted to say back to her, but opted for going over “My Favorite Things” again under my breath, but my own invented lyrics kept creping in, making me freak out that they might slip out when I was on stage.

The excited whispers died down as the director, Mr. Dunn, walked onto the stage and gave a few brief words of welcome and good luck before taking his place at a card table with a single lamp which illuminated the stack of audition sheets we all filled out. There were a lot more auctioneers than I thought there would be, and I was suddenly wary of my ability to walk into the lead as easily as I had hoped.

Biting my lip, I took in the seemingly endless rows of students as the first one bravely took the stage. An expectant hush rippled down the aisles as the tiny, blonde girl shakily started her first notes, but something in the back corner of the auditorium caught my eye and I was no longer paying attention. Normally, I would have passed the tall, thin shape off as a shadow, just another crevice the spotlight failed to illuminate, but shadows don’t have eyes that look back at you. Especially not brilliant yellow eyes. I blinked to see if perhaps the stage lights had just reflected oddly, but the distant pair of eyes simply blinked back at me. A thousand spider legs danced down my spine.

I looked back at Chrissie, and even though she was just feet from me, her eyes didn’t glow like those in the back corner. “Chrissie,” I whispered as the girl on stage wound into the last verse, “do you see that over there?” I tried to point to her, but she batted my arm down.

“Shhhh, Val,” she shushed me. But still, the yellow irises peered from the darkness right in our direction and my heart pounded with more than stage-jitters.

“I’m serious,” I hurried. “There’s something over there.” I squeezed her arm.

She whipped her head around to me. “Jeeze, can’t you see I’m trying to scope out the competition?” The girl stepped down and the auditorium echoed with polite applause. Chrissie clapped her black nail-polished fingers together. “Now, what is it?” she demanded me, but I looked back to the corner and the eyes were gone.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, wringing my fingers in my green hoddie. Wow, I must have stage-fright bad. I’m even seeing things. I tried the deep-breathing techniques my mom was also promoting for emotion control. Calm, Valerie. Breath in and out. Slow. Be calm like a deep sea, a still lake surrounded with pines, reflecting jagged mountain cliffs— that’s where the yellow eyes lives. Whoa. What? Where did that come from? Panic started to wheel in my throat. My lungs demanded oxygen quicker and quicker.

“Chill out, Val,” Chrissie whined. “You’re making me even more nervous than my parents were when I hit puberty and it’s my turn in three more.”

I wouldn’t be on till the end, but what was with me? I had performed on stage before: solos in choir concerts, minor things like that, but I had never felt like this. That’s when I realized it wasn’t about being on stage at all, it was about meeting Simon, whoever that was, at the park tonight and the culmination of all the other weird things in my life that had me more freaked than an elk in hunting season.

A really pretty brunette who was just a sophomore got up next and her clear soprano voice rang like one of the chicks from Celtic Women that Mrs. Tanner always plays in the shop. Enthusiastic cheers erupted as she gave a humble nod of her head and exited.

“She was so good,” I exclaimed, my hands pounding together, but my heart sunk a little lower knowing that every stellar audition lessened my chances of getting the lead that much more.

Chrissie shrugged and put her Converses up on the seat in front of her. “Swine flu sounds better to me.” She was probably just jealous.

“Aren’t you up after this?” I reminded her.

“Oh, yeah.” Suddenly, her face seemed very long and pale.

“Go get ‘em,” I encouraged her with a slap on the butt as she faced her doom. She didn’t bolt like I thought she would, but gave a tentative, yet fairly decent rendition of “Edelweiss.” Good for her. My eyes shot to the far dark corner of the auditorium and still, there was nothing there but shadow. No tall black figure or yellow eyes. Breathe, Valerie. Concentrate on getting through these few minutes and worry about the rest later.

Chrissie wiggled back into her seat, giddy with pride. I gave her a squeeze. “You did so good.”

“Thanks,” she gushed, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. “That was so much easier than I thought. I’m sure I did better than that sophomore girl.”

“Yeah,” I pretended to agree, but the truth was that “chorus girl,” was written all over Chrissie’s performance. One after one, I watched mediocre auditions, some looked more like rabbits caught on the highway, some gave self-conscious smiles while their friends cheered them on. A few had surprisingly good voices, but I knew my audition had to be more than that. I had to own the song, own the stage, and sing every note like it belonged to only me.

Before I knew it there was just one last audition before mine. A very reverent silence fell over the auditorium. With his swoosh of jet-black hair and confident gate, Dave Lonsely took the stage. His white teeth flashed as he introduced himself and let out his strong baritone voice in a unique version of “Edelweiss.” His talent was obvious and his confidence was contagious.

That’s what I need to do, I thought, challenged to prove myself. Following him was frightening; like being asked to play after Mozart or Vivaldi.
The cheers died down and a very sickly quiet seemed to creep through the air as I rose from my seat, descended down the aisle and then plodded up the few steps to the stage. Confidence. Straight back. Remember to smile. Again, I looked to the corner where the yellow eyes were, but the spotlight was so bright, I couldn’t see beyond the first row of seats. Big breath.

“My name is Valerie Brighton,” my voice came out clear and carried well but my hands trembled slightly at my sides, so I gripped onto my jeans, “I’ll be singing “The Sound of Music.” I bowed my head then to collect myself. My heart was fluttering faster than a hummingbird and all time seemed to slow down. I even noticed the tiny dust particles in the spotlight falling down to the wooden stage floor. I found the note in my mind, and a sudden complete calm came over me. You were made to do this, a voice in my head told me. Yes, I am. I lifted my chin and put my right foot out to the audience.

“The hills are alive with the sound of music,” my tone was clean and carried well, “with songs they have sung for a thousand years.” Hearing my own voice ring back to me off the curved walls gave me more confidence and I soared into the next line. “The hills fill my heart with the sound of music.” I squared my shoulders, imagining the spotlight was a warm sun made just for me and danced into the final line. “My heart wants to sing every song it hears.”

A second’s silence followed the last ring of my voice and then the audience burst into an applause close to as enthusiastic as Dave Lonsely’s.

“Thank you,” Mr. Dunn said. It was over. I had done it. Robotically, I moved out of the spotlight and into the darkness beyond. My eyes took a minute to adjust and I could barely make out the steps. Just as I passed the thick, red curtains a voice said lowly.

“Nicely done.”

I jumped nearly a mile, my head jerking to the shadows beyond the velvet. Standing there in a low crouch, I could just make out the orange hair and green eyes of Brad Ferguson. I didn’t say anything but rushed down the steps truly creped out. Had he been there the whole time, or just my audition?

Chrissie rushed at me in the center aisle. “You were amazing!” Her blue highlights bounced as she jumped up and down. “I never knew you could sing like that.”
I didn’t either, I thought but couldn’t get out more than a weak, “thanks,” because my head was too jumbled up.

Chrissie wanted to go out for ice cream at The Firepit to celebrate and anxiously pass the time until we got the results of the audition, but I mumbled some excuse about having to get home and help my mom close up shop.

Grabbing my bag and sheet music, I rushed out of the school and into the chill early spring Montana air wondering what more this day could possibly hold for me.