Gillian says, “Thank you. It’s an honor and a privilege to be part of this company. I’ve worked with Shawn before, and I know that we are all in for a wild ride.”
I think of a wild ride as a roller coaster or thirty minutes in a dune buggy on the beach. Gillian next turns away from us and looks back to the wings. “I have another important cast member I want you all to meet.” Then she calls out: “Coco!”
We watch as a terrier comes running from the darkness and heads right to her! This dog looks exactly like Toto in the movie. Gillian leans over and the very trained animal jumps into her arms.
This dog is an amazing actor.
Gillian says, “This is my traveling companion and my costar in life, Coco Moffat.”
We all clap loud.
I guess Shawn Barr has had enough, because he raises his hands into the air and says, “Okay, all good. When you get a chance, please introduce yourself to Gillian. There are a lot of you, so don’t expect her to learn all of your names.”
Gillian waves over at us and says, “But I’ll try!”
Shawn then makes his way (slowly) to the piano. He carries the plastic donut cushion with him and he says, “Let’s take it from the top!”
That means we start at the beginning. He could just say, “Let’s start at the beginning,” but theater has a language. This helps us be professional.
We sing songs while gathered around the piano, and we now have Gillian (not Shawn Barr) doing the part of Dorothy. I have to get used to the difference. She’s good, but somehow I feel like his voice is a better Dorothy.
Also, I can’t take my eyes off of Coco. She’s a big distraction.
The dog in the famous movie of The Wizard of Oz was a cairn terrier. I looked this up online two days ago. It’s not the kind of thing I would ever know, but it is the kind of thing I will easily forget.
And if I do remember, I will think the dog is a Karen terrier. That’s how my brain works (or doesn’t work).
When it’s time for our first break I hear one of the stagehands say that the dog gets paid. I don’t think that’s true, but people might be jealous of Coco. I see right away that she’s treated very special.
Just before the first break is over, Charisse calls the Munchkins together and gives us a speech about Coco. We are allowed to look at her and sometimes maybe pet her, but we can’t hold her or take her for a walk or bring her treats. Coco wears a vest that makes her a “service dog.” This is so Gillian can be with her everywhere.
I’m happy because I had been worrying about how Shawn Barr would handle the role of Toto. Coco knows exactly what to do onstage, but mostly that means she stays tucked under Gillian’s arm.
If I didn’t already have a mentor in Olive, I would absolutely be following every move that Gillian makes.
Besides Gillian, another person we meet in the second hour of rehearsal today is the Wizard. He’s not a college student. He’s a man who works in a bank, so that means he’s a banker, but I guess he’s sad doing that and now he’s hoping to find happiness in a summer play.
His name is Kevin.
He doesn’t have to sing, because the Wizard of Oz doesn’t ever do that.
Kevin says he’s a horrible singer, so I feel close to him right away. We share not having a talent.
But Kevin has a great look. He has hair that is long and almost white. He says it happens to everyone in his family at a very early age. Maybe they are related to Albert Einstein. He had a lot of white hair, but I can’t picture him working in a bank.
Kevin has a booming voice. Maybe because he’s spent a lot of time shouting “Next customer!” He will be forty-two on his birthday, and he’s not married. I only know these facts because I heard Charisse tell someone while I was washing my hands after I accidentally touched an area backstage with fresh paint. I’m very lucky because it was the kind that washes right off.
There are also the two witches in the play. They don’t show up until the very end of rehearsal, so we don’t get to sing with them today.
My plan is to keep away from both of these actresses.
The Bad Witch tells us that she will be staying in character, so she’s going to be mean to everyone. Her name is Kitty. This is not a joke. It’s really her name. I also think it’s not a joke that she plans on being unfriendly. If she said she’d be nice to us I would consider getting her a Hello Kitty sticker or keychain, but otherwise, forget it.
The Good Witch only says a quick hello, and then goes outside to use her cell phone. Her name is Dana. She’s getting married in September, and maybe that’s all she can think about. I heard Larry tell Quincy that Good Witch Dana is up for a part in a movie and she is worried about scheduling.
The witches stick together even though in the play they are not friends. I see Witch Kitty and Witch Dana talking under the big trees in the front of the theater. I’ve spent enough time with Piper and Kaylee to know when people really get along. These witches look like they are making a lot of plans.
Here is something I learned today that you’d have to be part of the theater group to know: In real life Gillian has short hair, but for the play she will wear braids that somehow hook onto her head and make her look just like Dorothy in the famous movie.
The last thing to happen just before rehearsal is over is that Gillian sings “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
Gillian has a great voice, and she gets tears in her eyes during the song as if the whole world is listening. She leans against this fake fence that was built to fit straight into holes drilled on the stage floor, and she looks right at the audience.
Behind her a rainbow is going to appear once the lighting people figure it out.
This is very emotional for all of us.
I think Larry and Quincy might be crying when she finishes the song. Olive looks like she enjoyed it, but not nearly as much.
Once the Munchkin rehearsal is finished, there is a thirty-minute break. I’m staying to work on my part as a flying monkey. I stick with Olive.
Gillian and Coco and the witches all head off somewhere, but Olive says we shouldn’t go to the coffee cart (or even the dressing rooms where there are comfortable chairs) because we might be needed.
She is right.
Gianni comes in with our harnesses, and he explains that we have things to learn, so we might as well get started. It turns out there will be three other flying monkeys, but they are getting paid and they will arrive from Cleveland right before the first performance. They are real professionals. They have a leader and his name is Nikko. I don’t know if that’s the character name or the man’s name. Nikko will do all of the complicated things like landing right next to the witch. So we are the supporting players monkeys. But Olive says we’re more than a chorus line, which is good to know.
We begin by being lifted into the air offstage.
Gianni says, “Once you are up, we will glide you out into the air and pull you across the stage. It takes some getting used to.”
I nod like I’ve been yanked around in a harness before.
Then I think about my little brother, Randy. He actually tried to fly. It was his dream, or at least his fantasy. Should Randy be a flying monkey instead of me?
I push this thought straight out of my mind. I’m hoping it doesn’t bubble up later.
Here is the second thing I learn, which is not as important but is still a new fact: The right name for the monkeys is to say the “winged monkeys,” not the “flying monkeys.”
I’m becoming an expert on all of this, so maybe I should say the proper words, but I’ll still let everybody else say flying monkeys because correcting people isn’t very fun and just ends up being extra work.
The rest of the rig crew arrives, and we go ahead and start.
What we’re doing is technical work, and in order to be safe we have to take everything slowly and do
it all many times.
I’m not great at doing things slowly.
Also, I don’t like repeating stuff.
Here is what else I learn today:
1. Being lifted up in the air is not hard.
2. Being pulled across the stage in the air with my arms held out and my legs looking in control is mostly not hard.
3. Landing in the right spot on the stage is very hard.
It takes practice.
And that’s what we are going to do.
TWENTY-ONE
As soon as I’m home I get myself a big piece of Randy’s marble cake. It’s a day old, but a lot of food tastes better after it sits around. My mom’s spaghetti is an example of this. So are the peanut butter cookies she makes.
I chew the marble cake and think about the two flavors in my mouth. They somehow aren’t that different. Maybe frosting would have changed that by making a third taste to separate the swirls.
Or maybe it’s just that I love frosting.
While I’m eating I think about Gillian, who is Dorothy, and Coco, who is Toto. I think about Kevin, who is the Wizard, and Dana and Kitty, who are the witches. I don’t think about the Lion or the Tin Man or the Scarecrow because I didn’t spend much time with them. I think about Gianni and of course Shawn Barr.
I decide to visit Mrs. Chang to talk about her audition. Maybe she’s changed her mind and now doesn’t want to be in the play. That can happen when people ask for something and then the roadblock is removed. They realize it never mattered.
I’m worried that if Mrs. Chang is in a harness and doing wire work, she might fall or crash into Olive and me.
I know that she could be in the chorus in the Emerald City and sing onstage and still be part of the show. That feels like a better idea.
The harness is really not very comfortable. I didn’t tell her when I was with Olive and Gianni because I didn’t want to hurt Gianni’s feelings.
I use Randy’s cake as an excuse. I wrap a piece in waxed paper and take it down the street. I ring the bell, and I guess Mrs. Chang’s always standing on the other side of the door, because it opens immediately.
Maybe she’s like Ramon and she can hear me coming from a long way away.
I wrote a report about that. One of the reasons dogs hear sounds from a distance four times farther than people is because they have eighteen different muscles in their ears. These muscles move to give their ears a better angle on the noise.
I don’t think people have any muscles in the outside part of our ears. They are just a place for jewelry and for keeping eyeglasses from falling off. If we could move our ears, that would be very interesting, but not something you could learn to do in gym class, even if you tried really hard to build muscle strength.
I hold out the piece of cake to Mrs. Chang, and I say, “For you. Homemade.”
I don’t explain that Randy baked it since she doesn’t know him and also, he’s not here to get the credit.
I think it’s a good sign that Mrs. Chang is not wearing her winged monkey costume. She’s in stretchy yellow pants and a white shirt that is too big and maybe once belonged to a man. It’s the kind of shirt that a large person would wear untucked with a tie. Somehow it looks good on her.
“Come in, Julia.”
“I brought you chocolate and yellow marble cake. Swirled around inside, not made of actual marbles. But no frosting.”
“Did you bake it?”
Too much time passes.
Finally I say, “It was cooked right in our oven.”
We go through the entryway down the hall to the kitchen. I like it in here. The drying plants hanging from the ceiling and all her big wooden bowls give off a good feeling.
“Should we have tea with our cake?”
If she means the stuff that tastes like dirty flowers I would say forget it, but instead I’m polite and say, “If you want that.”
Mrs. Chang heads to the refrigerator and pulls out a glass jug. “I also have goat’s milk.”
All of a sudden the dirty-flower tea sounds great.
Who drinks goat’s milk? Where do you even get it?
We were goats in the photo for the pet parade. But I can’t imagine how you’d get milk from that animal. I’ve been around a few goats, and they smell like a room full of wet socks.
I say, “Tea is really good with cake.”
Mrs. Chang puts away her goat jug and gets to work making us tea. She then places the cake slice on a plate and cuts it in two pieces in a very careful and attractive way. I already had mine at home, but she doesn’t know and it would be rude to let her eat alone.
I think that we are going to have the cake here in her kitchen, but instead, once the tea is ready she puts everything on a big red tray and starts toward the two doors that lead to the yard.
I follow.
She steps outside onto a little pebble path that runs around the corner to the back of the house. From the street you can’t see any of this, so it’s a new area to me.
Once again I’m in for a big surprise: She has ducks!
I know that there are people who keep chickens for their eggs. But ducks?
I look around and I also see a small pond and a grassy spot and then a thing that looks like a wooden doghouse, but I guess is a duck house.
The three ducks I see are as white as snow.
One is standing in the grass, and he’s using his bright orange beak to dig. He’s moving dirt and he’s mad. He stomps his big orange feet like a cartoon. Only he’s real. The color of his feet and his beak are pure pumpkin. It’s just shockingly bright.
“I can’t believe you have ducks!”
Mrs. Chang sets the tray on a round table where there are also two chairs. She says, “Don’t give them any cake.”
I guess the ducks speak English, because as soon as she’s said this sentence, all three of them turn. They stop what they are doing—two were doing nothing—and they start toward us.
The ducks walk in a funny way.
Mrs. Chang raises a hand in the air and says, “No. Not now.”
The ducks aren’t good listeners. They slow down, but they keep coming straight at us. Their heads move with little jerking motions. If we had on music right now I think they’d be dancing.
Mrs. Chang looks like Mrs. Vancil at school after lunch when no one quiets down. She suddenly claps her hands and says, “You heard me. Not now.”
The ducks stop at the hand clap. They huddle together. They are still moving, only now it’s in a circle.
I turn to Mrs. Chang. “I love your ducks.”
She says, “I knew you would. After we have our tea and cake, I’ll give you something to feed them.”
I’m pretty excited, so I eat my cake very fast and I drink as much of the flower tea as possible. It’s better today than yesterday. Am I developing a taste for it?
That could happen.
I can see myself back at school in the cafeteria with Piper and Kaylee, taking out a thermos and pouring myself a small cup of this greenish tea. They would go crazy.
The ducks make it hard for me to concentrate on anything else, and so I forget about trying to talk Mrs. Chang out of auditioning to be a winged monkey.
I ask, “Do they ever drop any feathers? I’d love to have a duck feather.”
“Are you going to try to make a quill pen?”
“No. It’s for my scrapbook about the summer. I don’t make pens.”
Mrs. Chang understands. Just because she can make shoes and hats and costumes doesn’t mean the rest of us are craftspeople too. A few minutes later she finishes her cake and goes into the house.
I stay in the yard with the ducks.
Once she’s gone I would say that the warden has left the prison yard, because the ducks break their huddle and head right to me.
I
’d be afraid, but these are pet ducks, so they must be trained. I clap my hands like Mrs. Chang did, but I’m not in charge and they know it.
It doesn’t take long before they are at my feet looking for crumbs.
I say, “The cake is gone.”
They don’t listen.
With the ducks this close I can see their white feathers, which are so complicated. I can’t imagine how the brain of the duck knows to grow these things. The center part looks like it’s made of the same stuff as my fingernails. But the other part is tiny layers of something that’s so fancy I suddenly wish I had feathers growing out of my head instead of this mess of brown hair.
I must have dropped a tiny crumb of cake on my right leather sandal, because the biggest of the three birds strikes my foot. I howl, “Cut it out!”
The ducks scramble back, and I don’t know who is now more upset—them or me?
Fortunately Mrs. Chang comes down the path, and the ducks see her and it’s like I’m now lawn furniture. They head to their leader.
This is the first time I realize that Mrs. Chang is dressed like a duck. She has the too-big white shirt and the stretchy yellow pants. If the pants were bright orange it would be a perfect match, but even wearing the lemony color she looks like their mom.
She speaks to the birds. “Julia is going to give you snacks. You be nice to Julia.”
The ducks seem confused. They look from Mrs. Chang back to me, but they really keep their eyes on her hands, which hold a banana, a bunch of small carrots, and a bell pepper.
I say, “Do they like that stuff?”
“Very much.”
Mrs. Chang takes a seat again in the chair by the metal table, and peels the banana. She passes it to me.
“Break off little chunks. It’s a real treat for a duck.”
She can say that again!
Now that I’m holding the banana, the ducks are all pushing each other to get at me. The banana must be a lot better than slugs, or whatever they get out there in the dirt.